


The One Drink

by diemdoll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Minister of Magic campaign, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-16 11:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10570347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemdoll/pseuds/diemdoll
Summary: When Hermione Granger went to the pub for a drink after a hard day at work, the only thing she expected to wake up with was a hangover the size of a hippogriff. She certainly didn't expect to wake up married. And she certainly didn't expect to wake up married to Draco Malfoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoy :)

 

 

::

 

“There you are.” Hermione gave him a disingenuous smile before bringing her drink to her lips and taking a deep swig of it. She made a face and hoped he thought it was because of his presence and not because the drink burned her throat on the way down. “I thought I heard the gates of hell creaking open.”

 

“Was that humor, Granger?” Draco asked in mock disbelief, throwing one hand over his heart and using the other to move her purse from the otherwise empty seat next to her. “Is that why your boss performed so badly today? His right hand was too busy learning how to tell a joke instead of helping him prepare for the debate?”

 

Hermione took another deep drink. “He didn’t perform badly at all.” She didn’t sound the least bit convincing, and he didn’t look at all convinced. Hermione gave him a look, a childish one if she were honest, before sighing. “Haven’t you heard of the phrase ‘lose the battle, win the war’?”

 

“And this brings his grand total up to what now? Five or six battles lost? Not too many speeches left before he has to give the big one on election night. Don’t get that twinkle in your eye, Granger, you know I’m only talking about his concession speech.”

 

“Sod off.” Hermione sulked. She crooked a finger at the barmaid, and the pretty redhead walked over with a refill of her drink. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off celebrating with the rest of the degenerates on your team?”

 

“Language!” He chided, laughing at the sour look she shot him. “I can promise you that no one on my team is celebrating your boss’ loss tonight. We’re having a _small_ get together tomorrow. Nothing big or opulent. A few dozen people. Press. Whatever, right?”  

 

Hermione wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smirk right off his face but she held her composure, choosing instead to reach over him to a bowl of peanuts the barmaid had just put out.

 

“I loathe you, Malfoy. Truly, honestly, I do.” She cracked open the nuts and popped them in her mouth, chewing loudly but only because she knew how much he hated the sound. “But even I know you’re better than bloody McKinnon. How can you campaign for someone like him to be the Minister of Magic? He’s _awful_.”

 

“With ease,” He told her confidently, “And, yes, before you even bother to ask, I do sleep well at night. Best sleep I’ve gotten in years, actually. ” He eyed the drink she sat down on the bar before looking back up at her. “What are you having?”

 

He took the drink from her when she didn’t answer and brought it up to his nose to take a sniff and immediately held it as far away from his body as his arm would allow.  

 

“Are you a year out of Hogwarts?”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You know bloody well that I’m not a--”

 

“Then why are you still drinking from the bottom shelf like you are?” Draco put his hand in the air and waved the barmaid back over. She looked between the two of them expectantly, the look on her face suggesting that she knew it was going to be a long night.

 

“We’ll take something from that shelf up there. That’s where adults drink from, Granger.” Draco pointed to the line of bottles that lined the top shelf, his finger stopping on a black and gold bottle that caught his attention. “That’s one I’ve never seen before.”

 

The barmaid, Sylvia according to the tag pinned to her blue shirt, looked over her shoulder to the shelves that lined the wall.

 

“Ahh, that’s one of our latest imports. We source it directly from Knockturn Alley.”

 

“What’s it called?” Draco asked.

 

“They haven’t given it a name officially.” Sylvia turned around and stood on her tiptoes to reach for the bottle. “But the patrons have been calling it ‘the one drink.'” She uncorked the bottle and poured a tiny bit into a shot glass she pulled from underneath the bar.

 

“Why?”

 

The redheaded witch tipped her head back and drained the shot glass, setting it down on the bar with a flirtatious smile.   

 

“Because that’s all you need to have a good time.” She leaned into Draco, at least as much as she could with the bar separating them, before giving him a wink and pulling back.  

 

“Charming,” Hermione mumbled.

 

“What do you say, Granger? Fancy a good time?”

 

Hermione scrunched her nose and shook her head.

 

She wanted absolutely no part in this. Being seen together was bad enough, but publicly sharing a drink with the bloke who worked for her boss’ rival was even more of a disaster in the making. She could only imagine what her boss would say if he knew she was out consorting with the enemy after the day they had.

 

_Not_ that she had even made the conscious effort to consort with him in the first place. Malfoy, as she had come to learn over the last few months, was like a fly, one that wouldn’t stop buzzing around no matter how hard, or how many times, he was shooed away.

 

He was _always_ on the hunt for information, and while that was a quality she could admire given the right set of circumstances, this certainly wasn’t one of them. He could derail the entire campaign if she so much as had a single slip of the tongue and she knew, just knew, he would do so in a heartbeat _and_ with that annoying smirk of his plastered on his face the entire time.

 

“I’m fine with the drink I alread--”

 

“She doesn’t look like the type,” Sylvia interrupted, giving Hermione a once over,  “Maybe something a little tamer to fit your tastes, pet?”  

 

Hermione balked.

 

Something _tamer_ to fit _her_ tastes? What did that even mean?

 

She looked herself over before turning towards Draco to do the same.

 

She couldn’t ignore that she was sorely overdressed to be sitting in a pub, but that was only because she had come straight from the office. Merlin only knew what hole Malfoy had slithered out from that his current attire could be deemed even somewhat appropriate.    

 

Regardless, her choice of clothing didn’t make her “too tame” to order a bottle of what she was sure was only overly priced alcohol in a pretty bottle. And there wasn’t a wizard, or a barmaid, who could tell her otherwise, she thought to herself with an audible humph.

 

“Did you hear that?” Draco egged on, pointing towards Sylvia. “She doesn’t think you could handle a little bottle of liquor. _She_ thinks you ought to try something a little tamer, _but_ -” He drew out the syllable of his last word purposefully, watching in delight as Hermione’s eyes narrowed at the barmaid-“ _I_ thought you had a little bit more fire in you than you’re known for these days. _I_ think you could handle it. Which one of us is right, Granger?”

 

Hermione drummed her fingers on the top of the bar. She hated being manipulated, as Malfoy was so clearly trying to do, but she also hated being doubted…even if it was over something as inconsequential as this.

 

If Harry were here, he would poke fun at her need to always be right, and she knew she would probably order a glass of water and let that be the end of it, but he _wasn’t_ here.

 

Which left her with two options.

 

“We’ll have two glasses of whatever that is.” Hermione finally said, ignoring the devious smile that broke out across Draco’s face in favor of the skeptical barmaid. “He’s paying.” She added primly. She was going to be proving the barmaid wrong with her actions, _not_ her pockets.

 

“Suit yourself.” Sylvia hummed, reaching under the bar for two glasses, both much bigger than the shot glass she had used. She tapped her wand against the side of the bottle, and the liquid spurted from it like a fountain before pouring itself into the two glasses. “Have fun.”

 

Draco grabbed both glasses and pushed one over to Hermione.

 

“I’ll tell her you’re nothing more than a cowardly lion if you don’t take a sip.” He warned her, nodding his head over towards the redhead at the other end of the bar. His eyes remained on Sylvia for a moment before he brought them back to Hermione.  “You know, I quite liked her.”

 

“Then why don’t you go over and bother her because you’re not getting what you want out of me.” She rolled her eyes at the innocent look he was sending her. “I know you’re only here because you want to try and get whatever information you can from me before you slither your way back to McKinnon like a good little boy.”

 

Draco grinned over the top of his glass.

 

“Drinking makes you feisty, Granger. I can’t say I don’t like it, but, as per usual, you are sorely misguided. I’m simply here to have a drink,” He told her, “I didn’t know you would be here to share one _with_ me, but I never pass up an opportunity to get under your skin, if only because you make it so easy.”

 

“You shouldn’t take pride in making a witch see red, Malfoy.”

 

“I take pride in making witches do all sorts of things. Anything that has to do with you is just an additional bonus.”

 

“You’re disgusting,” Hermione told him as she brought her glass to her mouth and took a cautious drink.

 

It wasn’t sweet, as she had been expecting it to be, but it wasn’t outright horrible. She took another drink when she saw Sylvia looking at her from down the bar. She knew it was childish to want to prove her wrong so badly, but she had never been one to fold without putting up a proper fight.

 

“Quite possibly.” Draco hummed in return as he nursed his drink. His nails clicked against the sides of his glass before he spoke again. “What do you plan on doing after all of this is over? The election that is. Do you plan on becoming a stay at home wife to Weasley once your precious Henry Morris loses?”

 

“Ron and I aren’t even-” She stopped herself short, unsure of why she was about to explain her relationship status to _him_ of all people- “Why are you so sure Henry is going to lose? He has _just_ as much of a chance as McKinnon. Despite some recent setbacks he’s been polling well with the public and-”

 

Draco waved his hand through the air dismissively. “Don’t give me that man of the people bullshit, Granger; it’s just you and me here. No press, I promise. Besides,  Morris has those beady little eyes, so I _know_ he’s got some skeletons in his closet.” He took another drink. “I’m right, aren’t I?” He asked when she said nothing in return, “Under that good family man persona are a few dark secrets. Second family, perhaps? He’s at least got himself a mistress, hasn’t he?”

 

“I’m not answering any of those questions. You could be wearing some sort of...recording device.” Hermione replied.

 

She knew she should have said that Henry, unlike McKinnon, didn’t have any skeletons in his closet, but she was finding it harder and harder to come up with quality rebuttals.

 

“Do you want to check?” He asked teasingly, tilting his head to look at her in a way he had never done before. His usually pale cheeks were now stained pink, and she wondered if hers looked the same. 

 

"Have it your way, Granger," He said after she merely scowled at him, "But all I’m saying is that eventually, the truth will come out because no one is _that_ spotless. And when it finally does, you and I both know his campaign will be over, and you will be out of a job, which begs the question: why are so intent on going down with that sinking ship?” 

 

“Because I believe in Henry and his message.”

 

“So you agree?” Draco asked smoothly, “You’re on a sinking ship?”

 

Hermione whipped her head around to look at him. “I don’t--he’s not-- _ugh_!” She pushed his shoulder, and he laughed even as he wobbled in his seat, his drink spilling against his hand. “You’re infuriating.”

 

“I’ve been called much worse, and by you no less,” He grinned, “How about we make a friendly wager?”

 

She eyed him suspiciously, not liking the way his smile only seemed to widen as he took another drink.

 

“On what?”

 

“The outcome of the election, of course. Since you’re clearly so hell bent on Morris winning, why not get something out it?”

 

“Because I’m sure that’s illegal!” She wasn’t sure, but it sounded likely. “Can you imagine if the press got wind of you and I making a bet about something like this?” She whispered.

 

“You think the press is hiding out in here?” He motioned to the space around them. “Don’t be daft, Granger. Put your money where your mouth is.”

 

“I’m not making a bet with you,” Hermione humphed,  “Besides being an awful idea, there’s nothing you could give me that I couldn’t get myself. And when Henry wins--”

 

“Loses.”

 

Hermione threw both hands in the air. “He’s not going to lose!” She didn’t like the look on his face. It was the same one she used when she told Ron his cooking was edible. “He’s _not_.” She cemented childishly.

 

“I would bet my life on it.”

 

“I would do much worse,” She retorted, “If McKinnon won, which he’s not, I would-” She paused to think of something truly outlandish that would fit the scenario perfectly, and her eyes lit up when she thought of it-”I would marry you surrounded by every blonde haired narcissist in your family.”

 

He snorted. “Then I might as well propose now.”

 

“Yes, ready the ring, Malfoy,” Hermione replied sarcastically.

 

Draco looked her directly in the eyes before he set his glass down and pulled on one of his fingers, tugging off a ring. She couldn’t help but noticed that the silver ‘M’ in the center glittered brilliantly even in the dim lighting of the pub.

 

He grabbed her hand before she had the chance to pull it away, and slipped the much too big ring over and down her ring finger.  

 

“Granger-” He began, his eyes red and dancing with mirth- "Will you marry me?”

 

Hermione played along, feeling silly and light headed.

 

“If only to use all of your riches in the fight against McKinnon _and_ to add some galleons to the house-elf liberation fund.”

 

Draco reached for the bottle Sylvia had left them and poured a generous amount into each of their empty glasses.

 

“Cheers then.”

 

::

 

Hermione stretched both of her arms above her head before she lowered them and used one to cover her still closed eyes. She had been fighting getting out of bed for what felt like hours to her, but it truly wasn’t her fault that everything about her bed felt softer than usual.

 

She had just gotten new cotton sheets last week and had known from the very first night she had slept on them that they were ungodly soft, but she had no idea that they could feel like silk. She turned onto her side and took the sheets with her, wrapping them around her shoulders and nestling them against her face.

 

Cho, Hermione thought to herself, could handle answering owls and filling in appointments on Henry’s calendar by herself this morning. In a few minutes, she would peel herself out of bed, get dressed, and head over to Molly’s to pick up--

 

Hermione’s eyes shot open when the sheets she had wrapped around herself were pulled from her grasp, leaving her cold and confused. The groan that followed did not come from her, and she felt her heart speed up as her mind tried to work out who was sleeping next to her and why.

 

She had gone out last night, that much she could remember, but the details surrounding the rest of the night were fuzzy at best.

 

There was a barmaid, Sarah she thought it was, but that wasn’t who was next to her. That groan had been distinctly male...and distantly familiar.

 

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember where exactly she had heard it from.

 

It reminded her of the last debate when McKinnon had fumbled over a question and then she, feeling the need to gloat, had walked over to his....wait, no. No. _No_ , she repeated to herself. That couldn’t be right. There was no way that she would--

 

The man next to her groaned again, and she bit into her bottom lip to prevent herself from doing the same.

 

With all the courage she could summon, Hermione carefully sat up on the bed, doing her best to make sure it didn’t squeak under her weight and took a peek at the man sleeping next to her.

 

He wasn’t a stranger as she had still been hoping, _praying_ , he would be.

 

_That_ she could explain to herself. A mistake. A once off. Never have to see him again. 

 

But this man she knew.

 

He had _that_ shoulder length blonde hair. And _that_ pale skin. And _that_ smarmy little face she had seen nearly bi-weekly for the last year and a half.

 

“Shit,” Hermione whispered to herself as she quietly rolled out of bed and started to grab her clothing that was thrown about _his_ bedroom.

 

How could this have happened?

 

She knew they had gone to a pub...no _she_ had gone to a pub, and he had been there...or maybe he had come later. But she had only had one drink..or maybe it was more than one and...

 

“Shit, shit, _shit_.” Hermione cursed to herself as she pulled her shirt over shoulders and smoothed it down her sides. It was horribly wrinkled, but that was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things.

 

She shimmied into her pleated skirt and grabbed ahold of one of her heels, holding it like a weapon when she heard him move on the bed. She blushed when she realized how ridiculous she must look and praised Merlin that he still seemed to be sleeping.  

 

She then limped around the room in her one heel, looking desperately for the other so she could apparate far away from his bedroom and take a long, and shaming, shower back at her flat.

 

“By the armoire.”

 

Hermione slowly turned around. “You’re awake.” She tried to sound pleasant but came off as more panicked than anything else.

 

“If I weren't, I would have to be dead,” Draco yawned, “You’re louder than any alarm charm I’ve ever cast.”

 

Hermione nearly opened her mouth to dispute his claim but decided against it. Small potatoes, she reminded herself.

 

“Look, Malfoy.” She slipped into her lost heel and stood at her full height. She thought she should explain a few things to him before he had the chance to say anything more. “This-” She motioned between the two of them- “Shouldn’t-- _Didn’t_ happen. Let’s chalk it up to being overworked and underpaid.” And stupid. Very _very_ stupid.

 

“For once, I agree with you.” He yawned again, his eyes connecting with hers through the mirror she was using to mold her hair into what she hoped would eventually be a sensible bun.

 

Hermione was glad he wasn’t using this as an opportunity to take the piss out of her or be outwardly cruel; both of which she had been expecting the moment their morning after conversation had started.

 

He just seemed to be too tired to do one or the other, and she really wanted to get out of there before he fully woke up and--

 

“ _Ouch_.” She cursed as her finger got caught in the tangles of her hair. She tried to pull it out, but the more she tugged, the worse the knot became. It was like her hair was caught on something.

 

She reached over her other hand and began the tedious process of freeing her finger.

 

“How’d you get that?” Draco asked, sounding far more awake and alert than he had before. He was looking at her through the mirror; his attention completely focused on the hand she was holding up to inspect.

 

Hermione looked down at the ring on her finger. It fit so tightly around it that she couldn’t imagine how she could have gotten it on in the first place without bruising, or breaking, her knuckle in the process.

 

But she didn’t think that _she_ was the one who put it on in the first place.

 

“You gave it to me.” She replied without thinking.

 

Draco’s eyebrows shot to the top of his head.

 

“Gave it to you, Granger? The only thing I _gave_ to you last night was a proper fu-” He stopped himself when she shot him a warning look- “Why would I have given you my ring?”

 

Why had he?

 

Hermione squinted her eyes and thought hard. She could remember that---

 

“Take it off. _Now_ , Granger.”

 

She sent him a scathing look through the mirror. She didn’t like his tone or his attitude.

 

“I’m trying.” Hermione gave the ring a good tug, “It’s stuck.” She tugged again. “Don’t look at me like that; I don’t want it. What would I even do with it?” She tried twisting it off this time, but with no such luck.

 

Hermione didn’t realize he had gotten out of bed and walked over to her until his hand was on her wrist.

 

“Is this a joke?” Draco shook her wrist, his grip tightening even as she winced. He reached down to tug at the ring himself, but all he got in return was another strangled cry from her.  “Did you shrink it?”

 

It was too snug on her finger for her not to have, he thought.

 

“I wouldn’t put it past you to try and walk out of here with this. After all, I’ve heard the whispers that Morris is steadily running out of money to fund his campaign.”

 

Hermione pulled her wrist from his grasp and rubbed at her sore skin.

 

“Merlin, what is wrong with you? It’s _just_ a ring! One that’s stuck, obviously, but with enough soap and water--”

 

He made to grab her again, but she was quicker than he expected and managed to take a step back before his hands could close around her arm.

 

“Touch me again, and I’ll hex off a few body parts you might want to keep.” Hermione threatened, meaning each and every word.

 

She didn’t know what had gotten into him, but she wouldn’t have him thinking she was some sort of doll he could throw around at his whim when he wasn’t getting his way. And to even _suggest_ that she would try and steal from him was--

 

“That’s my family ring on your finger, Granger. If you don't--”

 

“You’re acting like I want it! I _don’t_.” Hermione turned her head at the sound of his alarm chiming and cursed. “I can’t do this with you right now. I have to get to the office. Are you connected to the Floo network?” She asked, “Nevermind, it’s better if I apparate.”

 

She pulled her wand out of her purse. “I’ll owl your ring to you before the day is over. And Malfoy, don’t talk about last night with anyone or _both_ of our careers could be over.”

 

She heard him call her name, but it was too late because as soon as she closed her eyes and imagined her flat in her mind, she was gone.

 

::

 

“Do you think McKinnon is paying Goldstein to write these fluff pieces about him in the Daily Prophet?” Cho asked from across their empty office. They were the only ones there because everyone else had already left for lunch. “Because, honestly, who cares what color the rugs in his new mansion are?” She uncrossed her ankles and looked at Hermione from over the top of her newspaper. “They’re beige, by the way, and just about as boring and drab as he is.”   

 

“They probably are, but that’s actually a good idea,” Hermione admitted reluctantly. She hated when their competition thought of something before them. “Do we know anyone at any of the other papers?”

 

“Luna over at The Quibbler, but I think her audience would rather see a nargle get elected rather than an actual person.” Cho looked towards the ceiling as she tried to think of any other contacts they had. “There’s always McLaggen over at the--”

 

“No.”

 

“But he-”

 

“No,” Hermione repeated, “I’m not going down that road again. If Henry winning rests solely on me sending Cormac anything other than a howler, he’ll just have to lose.” She was kidding, sort of.

 

“Duly noted,” Cho laughed as she crossed Cormac’s name off of the list she just started. She spun her quill in between her two fingers before speaking again. “I’ll send out some owls and see who we can get in our corner.”

 

Cho looked towards their office door at the sound of knocking and then she hurriedly reached into her desk to fish out her wallet. “We’ll be right there!” She called out.

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“Lunch. Don’t worry; it’s on me.” Cho shook her wallet in the air as she went to answer the door. “I ordered from that new restaurant in Diagon Alley next to that little-” Her explanation cut off when she swung open the door and saw who was standing on the other side- “What are _you_ doing here?”

 

“None of your concern, Chang,” Draco responded as he kept the door Cho was actively trying to close open with his foot. He peeked his head inside and cranked his neck to the left, pointing his finger at Hermione when his eyes landed on her. “Up, Granger, we need to speak.”

 

Cho looked back at Hermione. “Should I call security?”

 

Draco laughed. “As if your campaign has the budget for them, Chang.”

 

“It’s fine, Cho, he’s just here to talk about the next debate.”

 

“There isn’t one on the schedule.”

 

“Which is why he’s here,” Hermione lied, “We’re going to throw around a few dates to see if we can get something concrete down.”

 

Cho eyed Draco suspiciously. “Don’t keep him for too long, Hermione. I suspect McKinnon will want him back on his leash within the next half hour.” Cho gave Draco one last look before turning on her heel and walking back to her desk.

 

“Always a pleasure, Chang,” Draco said with a smile.

 

“I’ll be back soon,”  Hermione promised Cho before she stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

 

Hermione sent Draco a dark look before smacking him against the arm. “You can’t be here! Are you mad?” She whispered furiously. “What if Henry saw you here and asking for me no less? I could have been fired!”

 

“And you would have finally gotten off of this sinking ship.” His eyes widened as if he remembered something before the look faded from his face altogether. “While I would love nothing more than to get you into trouble, I’m only here to talk about that.”  He pointed to the ring on her finger.

 

  
“I told you I would send it to you as soon as I got it off. What else is there to talk about?”

 

“This.” Draco took out his wand and pointed it at her. “Accio ring.”

 

Hermione stared at him for a few moments, trying to decide whether she wanted to cast a spell right back at him or give her full attention to the ring that hadn’t moved at all under his.

 

“Why didn’t that work?”

 

“I don’t know,” Draco answered honestly, “After you left, I realized that you might be too...smart to try and steal anything from me, especially something that has my family crest on it, which means you were telling the truth. My ring is somehow stuck on you.”

 

“Of course I was tellin-”

 

“So I contacted a friend of my family who suggested that I try that spell before I wasted his time by bringing you to him,” He said over her, “We have to leave now to be there on time.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

 

“Really? You want to spend however long with my family's crest on your finger? How long do you think it will take the press to pick up on your new piece of jewelry and start asking questions you don’t have the answers to?”

 

He smirked at her silence.

 

“And then, of course, you’ll look guilty, and Henry Morris will start to wonder if the ring was a sign of payment because you, being as naughty as you are, have been selling information to-”

 

“Ok, fine.” Hermione ground out. She looked around the hall to make sure no one had heard Malfoy spout off all of his hypotheticals. “Where is this ‘friend of the family’?”

 

“Knockturn Alley.” He smiled.

 

::

 

“I’m Donahue, and you are?” The man reached out his hand in greeting, and Hermione immediately put hers in his.

 

Donahue was tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome in a way that Hermione would have appreciated, and even commented on, if it were any other situation.

 

“Not important, Hue.” Draco interrupted, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he saw the look on Hermione’s face. Draco tapped her on the arm and pointed to a nearby chair. “Sit there so he can take a look.”

 

Hermione shot him a look but ultimately did as he asked. She needed to get back to the office before Cho, or anyone else, started to wonder where she had wandered off to, and she couldn’t do that if she and Malfoy engaged in a power struggle.

 

“How long has the ring been on your finger?” Donahue asked as he dug inside of his desk drawer and pulled out what looked to be a pair of glasses with knobs on the side. They reminded Hermione of the omnioculars she used when she watched the boys play Quidditch.

 

“Since last night, or early this morning. I don’t quite remember.”

 

Donahue hummed to himself as he pushed his glasses up his nose and dialed the knobs on the sides. He took Hermione’s hand in his and zoomed in even further to get a good look at the sparkling ring.

 

“What _do_ you two remember about last night?” He asked as he twisted the ring to see how much it would move. “Nothing?”

 

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat.“Not _nothing_ ,” She mumbled, feeling the need to defend herself, “Just not much.”

 

Donahue smiled. “Ahh, to be young.”

 

He reached for his wand and ran it over Hermione’s finger and then frowned.

 

“What’s wrong, Hue?” Draco asked, leaning forward in his chair. “I need that ring.” He cast a sideways look at Hermione before continuing.  “I’m going to see my mother tomorrow, and she _will_ notice if it’s not on.”

 

“Narcissa does have eyes like an eagle.” Donahue chuckled before trying another loosening spell on the ring. “It doesn’t seem to want to come off under conventional methods, which means....” He murmured more to himself than the two of them. 

 

“Which means what?”

 

Hue touched his wand to the ring again before looking up at the both of them curiously.

 

“Which means it’s not simply 'just stuck' as you thought." He tapped the tip of his wand on his desk before nodding his head as if he had reached some sort of conclusion. “Forgive me for this, but I must try. Nupitalem!”

 

He pointed his wand at the both of them, and Hermione couldn’t help but let out a yelp as a stream of magic shot towards them. Instead of hitting them, as Hermione assumed it would, it floated around them for a few moments before falling to the floor like rice that had been thrown into the air. 

 

“Hue!” Draco shouted, jumping up from his seat, “What was that?"

 

"You may want to sit down for this, Draco."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I'm not sure if you're prepared to hear what I have to tell you."

 

Draco sighed loudly before sitting back down. "Just get on with it, Hue." 

 

"Your ring isn't going to come off her finger with a simple loosening spell because it believes itself to be hers now." Donahue took off his glasses and set them down next to his wand."But while you may have just lost yourself a precious family heirloom, it looks like you may have gotten yourself a bride in return. So, I do believe that congratulations are in order, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." 

::

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter got 100 kudos?! That's amazing ❤ . I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

::

 

Hermione’s eye twitched. “Come again?”

 

She was convinced she had misheard him. She must have, she rationalized, because what Donahue had said was not only impossible but bordering on insane. There was no way, under any conceivable circumstance, that she, Hermione Granger, would ever become so much as _friends_ with Draco Malfoy, let alone get married to the prat.

 

And to suggest otherwise was to overlook how very much she loathed him. Malfoy, as she often told anyone in earshot, was aggravating on his best day and downright maddening on his worst, and there simply wasn’t enough alcohol in the world that could make her forget that.

 

And even if there were, Hermione thought to herself with a laugh, she would have sooner woken up in St. Mungo’s than she would have married to him.

 

It just wasn’t possible.

 

There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Malfoy’s ring was stuck on her finger _and_ why Donahue’s spell had done what it had because the chances of her saying anything that resembled ‘I do’ to Draco Malfoy were about as slim as his candidate’s chance of being elected as the next Minister of M-

 

Hermione’s eye twitched once, twice, and then a third time as the oddest sense of deja vu swept over her.

 

“Is she going to be okay?” Donahue asked, his voice full of concern as he watched Hermione’s face turn bright red. He thought she might be holding her breath and couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. “Miss. _Miss_?”

 

Donahue reached across his desk and snapped his fingers in front of her face, breathing out a sigh of relief when she exhaled deeply. “I’m assuming this isn't good news for either of you?” He asked after Hermione’s face returned to its normal color.

 

Draco laughed before he leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands against his face, letting out a groan that lasted for five, no _six_ , of Hermione’s panicked heartbeats.

 

“Oh my God,” Hermione whispered into her palm. She repeated the phrase two more times, adding in a few colorful curse words before she turned to look at the wizard sitting beside her. “Malfoy,” She started, her voice cautiously optimistic, “Tell me we didn’t.”

 

He was silent.

 

The same bloody wizard she had threatened to cast a silencio on more times than she could count was actually silent. She would memorialize the occasion if it weren't attached to this.

 

“We didn’t,” Hermione ultimately said for him, throwing one of her hands in the air to accentuate her point, “We _couldn’t_! Your ancestors would have crawled from their graves before they ever let you and I get-”

 

“Don’t say it, Granger,” Draco all but begged her, “I’ll hear what Hue said in my nightmares until the day I die, at least spare me the utter misfortune of having to hear it in your voice as well.”

 

He sighed before he fell quiet again, clasping his hands together and bowing his head. He looked like he was praying, a thought that would have had Hermione in stitches on any other day, considering she had always thought he was the spawn of Satan but had her ready to grab his hand and join in on this one.

 

She didn’t care if he was calling out to Merlin or his mummy, as long as it woke them up from this nightmare and put them in a reality that made sense.

 

Draco looked up from the floor and over to Donahue. "How you do you plan on fixing this, Hue?"

 

"I don't," Donahue replied simply, punctuating his words with a laugh, "I fix cursed jewelry, Draco, not unhappy marriages. You'd be better off asking your mother and father about the rest of this, because, short of cutting off your new bride's finger, there isn't a single thing I can do for you."

 

Draco looked like he had been given a good idea, and turned towards Hermione with the same smarmy smile she and Cho had made fun of countless times before.

 

"Granger-"

 

"Absolutely not!"

 

"It's only a finger, Granger! You've got, what, nine spares? I've got one head, and that's exactly what will go rolling if so much of a word of this is spoken to my mother!"

 

"Will you even miss it? I mean, you hardly ever use it." Hermione replied snarkily, earning a laugh from Donahue and a glare from Draco. "And, honestly, your mother is the least of my concerns," She continued, "You and I have much bigger fish to fry."

 

Molly Weasley, for one, would not take this lightly. Hermione had seen her send a stinging hex to George's backside for even thinking about causing trouble, so she couldn't imagine what Molly would do if she found out about this.

 

And then, of course, there was Ron and Harry. The latter of which wouldn't-

 

"No, no, no!" Draco reached over and gave Hermione's shoulder a good shake. "We don't have time for you to start mumbling to yourself, Granger. I've seen you do it before and I know how long it takes for you to stop."

 

Hermione flushed. "I've never-" She cut off her denial at the look on his face before she straightened her back in her chair and cleared her throat, eyeing him prissily - "During times of great distress many people have been known to-"

 

"Write it down in your journal, Granger. It's about the only thing that cares." He looked over her head at the clock behind her, and when it chimed, he cursed. "We need to move quickly before someone, somewhere, sells whatever happened last night to some rubbish prophet for a handful of galleons and a little notoriety."

 

"The prophets?" She had completely forgotten about them. "Even if they knew about this, why would they bother to run it?"

 

"Do you really want me to answer that or is this one of those rhetorical questions you've been known to spout off at inappropriate times?" He had a feeling she knew but was just in denial. Either way, he was set on bursting her bubble.

 

"This is a potential scandal, Granger," He told her slowly, "And, outside of Quidditch, there's nothing people love more than one of those. They'd put our name in every headline for the next year if they found out about this and hound us at home for even longer just to catch a glimpse of one of us."

 

Hermione felt her stomach drop.

 

The mere thought of her name being attached to Malfoy's in one of the Daily Prophet's headlines was enough to make her nauseous.

 

But it was the thought of what would happen to her career if people found out that she had married Malfoy only because she had been too pissed off her arse to know any better that had her looking around the room for a rubbish bin to toss her lunch up in.

 

 _Merlin_.

 

She wanted to be the Minister of Magic one day, and that wouldn't happen if she got caught in the middle of a political sex scandal. Hermione knew as well as anyone else that the only politicians that were allowed to bounce back from those were rich and male, and she was neither.

 

"I'm going to be sick." She moaned as she tipped her head back towards the ceiling. The fan that spun above her head did nothing to settle her stomach, so she was forced to look back over at him.

 

All of this was his fault, she thought bitterly.

 

If he hadn't made it his life's mission to bother her at every point and turn they would have never ended up in this predicament. She would be at work right now going over strategies with Cho instead of sitting in Donahue's seedy little shop in the middle of Knockturn Alley, wondering who would hex her first: Narcissa Malfoy or Molly Weasley.

 

They would do it simultaneously, she figured, and would most definitely celebrate afterward. It would mark the first occasion in recent memory where the Malfoy and Weasley clans had worked together and in harmony no less.

 

Hermione shuddered.

 

She would not be the cause of that.

 

With a deep breath, she delivered a few slaps to her cheeks before she jumped up from her chair and waited on Malfoy to do the same.

 

"Let's go then," She said as he sat unmoved, "The first thing we need to do is head down to the ministry and sign whatever paperwork they need for this...this--" What could she call this? - "This _monstrosity_ to be resolved."

 

"Let me get this straight, Granger. You want us to go down to the ministry-" He waited until she nodded her head to tick off a finger- "In broad daylight-" He ticked off another- "To get a divorce?" And then a third before he shook his head with a laugh. "You do realize you've just written the Daily Prophet's headline for them, right?"

 

Hermione opened her mouth to disagree but the only sound that left it was a frustrated groan when she realized he was right. She sunk back down in her chair in defeat, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child.

 

"What do you propose we do instead?"

 

"Think smart, for one." She shot him a sour look that turned into a glare when he laughed at it. Leave it to him to find humor in a situation like this.  "What? You should be thanking me for being the voice of reason in this mess, Granger, because obviously you can't. If it were up to you, we'd be off rushing to the ministry with our pants still down around our ankles."

 

Hermione scowled at him. She wasn't even wearing pants, and she thought to tell him that but held off when she realized how childish that would sound.

 

"What's your plan then, Malfoy?”

 

"You know what we have to do." She didn't, she really, really, didn't. "Pretend it's your precious Henry Morris in the middle of this mess, and not us. What would you have him do if he woke up with a ring around his finger after a night of heavy drinking?"

 

"What does Henry have to do with  any of-"

 

"You're his adviser, right? Advise."

 

Hermione ran her tongue over her bottom set of teeth. "Henry doesn't even drink." So obviously he would never end up in a situation like this.

 

" _Granger_ -"

 

"But if he did," Hermione rushed to add, "I suppose I would..."

 

"You would what?" Draco asked when her voice trailed off and she made no move to continue by herself.

 

"I don't know, Malfoy, I guess I would...I would..” She looked up towards the ceiling again. What would she have him do? “I guess I would  have him wait."

 

"For what?"

 

Hermione huffed. "Is the 'what' really that important?" The look on his face suggested it was, and he continued to give her that look until she broke. " _Fine_ , I would have him wait so we could find someone in the ministry we could trust and who was...malleable." She could tell she had said the wrong thing by the way his eyes lit up. "I know what you're thinking," She rushed to add, pointing a finger at him, "But I'm _not_ talking about-"

 

"Bribery." He grinned.

 

Hermione shook her head. “I'm not talking about-"

 

"Bribery," He said again, his smile widening, "You would go out and do a little bribery on a Tuesday afternoon to make sure the lips of the pesky ministry worker who signs off on the documents are sealed and Henry Morris stays out of the headlines. You know how I know? Because that's exactly what I would do."

 

His smile widened even further. "I've always thought it was you, and not Chang, who cleaned up after Morris, but I had no clue you'd be so good at it. You may have it in you to be a Malfoy after all."

 

Hermione barely resisted the urge to gag. "For my health and sanity, as well as several limbs I'm sure you'd like to keep, I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that." In fact, she might even head over to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes headquarters to find out if George had been successful in his latest trial run of wizarding brain bleach. "But, I'm serious, Malfoy, I wasn't talking about-"

 

"Yes, yes, of course you weren't," Draco said dismissively as he stood to his feet and looked over at the clock again. "How about this, I'll handle finding our 'malleable' ministry worker. All you have to do is go and wait."

 

"Are you mental? I'm not skiving off of work for this." She hadn't taken as much as a day off when she had gotten pneumonia last month so she definitely wouldn't be taking time off for this. 

 

"Are you really going to make me come down to your office again? You know Chang won't let me through the door so easily this time, which means I'm going to have to give her a good reason."

 

Draco clasped his hands together and put on a sad face.

 

"Please, Chang, do let me in. I only need to borrow Granger for an hour at the most while we run off to get a divorce. I'll bring her back in one piece, I promise. Unless, of course, my mother finds out before we can sign on the dotted line and in that event you may find pieces of our bodies at-"

 

"I get it." Hermione cut in. She didn't know how people dealt with him on a regular basis. He was impossible. "Do you have to be such an insufferable arse at all times?"

 

"Oh, Granger, I save this side of myself especially for you," He smiled, "So what will it be? Flat visit or office visit for you?" He paused, waiting for her to answer. "What was that, Granger? I couldn't quite hear you, you were mumbling again."

 

"You know what I said."

 

Draco smirked down at her. "I didn't, so if you could-"

Hermione gave him a look she usually reserved for Ron when he was being intentionally grating.

 

"I need to head back to the office for a little to finish some work-" That wasn't what she had originally said, and he opened his mouth to tell her as much, but she rushed to speak over him-" I can't just leave in the middle of the work day! Someone would notice."

 

Cho or Dean or possibly one of the interns who could barely manage to put one of their feet in front of the other without her help on most days. 

 

He sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "I'll give you two hours, and then I’ll be at your flat."

 

"Aren't you going to ask me where I live?"

 

"No," He smirked as he pulled his wand from his robe pocket, "I'm very familiar with your flat, Granger. That's where we started last night."

 

::

 

 

"He must have really pissed you off today."

 

"You can tell?"

Cho nodded. "I'm incredibly perceptive," She said proudly, "And you've had that smile on your face for the last few hours, and I know you only use that one when you're trying to distract from the fact you're plotting someone's demise, which is usually Malfoy's or, at the very least, someone Malfoy adjacent." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. "What did the prat do this time?"

 

"Nothing," Hermione tried to assure her, groaning when she realized how unbelievable that sounded. Malfoy was always doing something to someone. "I mean, nothing out of the ordinary, Cho. You know Malfoy, he was just being a-"

 

"Prick?"

 

Hermione nodded, Cho had actually landed on the mark.

 

"Did you two at least settle in on a date?"

 

"A date for....?"

 

"...The debate?"

 

"Oh! No...we.. no. We couldn't-- _no_. We didn't. Weren't able to do that. Together. We just. No." Hermione had never been good at lying, but she had somehow become worse in the last few hours. "We argued too much." That was closer to the truth, so she managed to say it without stuttering. Small victories, she whispered to herself as she turned her back on Cho.

 

Hermione busied herself with shuffling through some of the papers on her desk, clipping a set of them together before sliding them into her bag. She had to get back to her flat before Cho pieced her together like a puzzle.

 

"Argued too much? About what?"

 

Hermione knew that tone.

 

It was the same one Cho used when she was trying to trap someone in a lie. Most of the time the witch was only trying to figure out who drank the last bit of coffee from the pot and not something as life changing, and career ending, as this.

 

Hermione straightened her spine and turned back to Cho.

 

"There's that smile again!" Cho pointed her quill at Hermione's face, rotating it around her mouth as if she were circling it. "There's something going on with you isn't there?"  

 

"Cho-"

 

"Did you hex him or something? Is that why you're so twitchy?" She popped her sugar quill back into her mouth and laughed, "Hermione, honestly, no one would blame you. Hell, we'd all pitch in to erect a statue in your honor after we sprung you from Azkaban. But if you really did hex him you have to let me know so I can give you the perfect alibi."

 

Hermione laughed nervously, but Cho had yet to categorize those like she had her smiles, so the witch thought nothing of it.  "No alibi needed."

 

"So you really-" Cho stopped at the sound of a loud clatter from a nearby room- "Those bloody interns! That'd better not have been the coffee pot." She stood up from her chair and looked like she was getting ready to march over there when she stopped, pointing at the bag hanging around Hermione's shoulder. "You're leaving?"

 

Hermione nodded, flexing her fingers around the leather strap of her bag. "The office closed an hour ago."

 

"So? You always stay later than the custodian, and he doesn't start his rounds for at least another two." Cho cursed at the sound of another heavy clang, her eyes jumping from the source of the sound back to Hermione as if she couldn't figure out which was more pressing. "Fine, go, I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding. "Bright and early."

 

"Wait!" Cho called out when Hermione had almost made it to the doors. Hermione turned back slowly, hoping she wasn't wearing the wrong smile. "I heard back from one of the prophets. They're interested in running some stories about Henry, but-"

 

"I'll prep him for the interviews, don't worry."

 

"It's not that, it's-" She stopped at the sound of yet another crash, "Merlin, okay, I'll tell you later. Remind me, okay?"

 

"Sure thing," Hermione said as she quickly made her exit before Cho could change her mind and interrogate her some more. 

 

::

 

Hermione smacked her hand against the wall and cursed when she missed the light switch completely.

 

"Can nothing go right today?" She whispered to herself as she felt along her wall, grinning in triumphant when she flicked the switch and the lights finally turned on. She shrugged off her heavy parka and threw it over to the coat rack, cursing again when it fell to the floor. "There's my answer." She grumbled as she bent to pick it up.

 

"Do you always talk to yourself or are you still 'distressed'?"

 

Hermione's fingers brushed against the fabric of her jacket before she froze, unsure of what to do but just stand there like a deer caught in the headlights. She straightened a bit when she realized she was bent over at the waist and was most likely giving him a very liberal view of her assets considering she was wearing a pleated skirt.

 

"How did you-"

 

"You have rubbish taste in alcohol," He said as if that were more important than whatever she was about to ask. He tipped his glass - _her_ glass - towards her. "I had to settle for water instead."

 

"This is a nightmare, isn't it?" She had fallen asleep at work, and this was her punishment.

 

Draco leaned against her archway, crossing one leg in front of the other as he grinned. "I'm not nocturnal, Granger. Any haunting that I do is done during the day. Why are you looking at me like that? You can't possibly be mad at me right now. I'm the one who should be mad. I've been waiting here for at least fifteen minutes. I'd have gone done to your office if I could stomach dealing with Chang again."

 

"Fifteen minutes?" Hermione sputtered. She looked around her flat to see if anything was missing or out of place. "You can't go around breaking through people's wards and waiting for them in their kitchens like some loon!"

 

Draco wagged his finger at her. "Ah, ah, ah! That's where you're wrong, Granger. I was waiting in the living room." She looked like she wanted to throttle him and he smirked in response. "And I didn't break through your little wards." He promised as he took another big gulp of water.

 

"My wards are set so that only close friends and family members can-"

 

"You see that crest on your finger? I'm about the closest thing to family you have, and your wards let me right through because of it. Now would you like to argue about this some more or can we move on to more pressing matters?"

 

Hermione wanted to argue more about it-- if only to let him know he didn't have the power to control their topics of conversation. This was _her_ flat, and she'd argue about whatever she wanted,  whenever she wanted. He was just lucky that she wanted to move onto more pressing matters.

 

"Did you find the worker?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then let's go!"

 

"Not tonight."

 

"Then tomorrow morning?" She could force herself to endure a few more hours of this nightmare if she had to.

 

"I can't tomorrow. It's my mother's birthday." And he needed that ring for it, but he would just have to do without it. "What? Would you have me sneak out in the middle of cake cutting to get a divorce?"

 

"If need be." She would even supply him with an invisibility cloak if it helped streamline the process. "Fine." Hermione gritted out when he just stared at her.

 

"What about Thursday? Pick the hour, and I'll do the rest. What? Why are you laughing?"

 

"How are you not? We're scheduling out a divorce like it's lunch date. Merlin, I never thought I'd say this, and I'll never say it again, but I miss when the worst thing I thought I did in the last twenty-four hours was sleep with you. That was the easy part."

 

The corner of his lips twitched.

 

"Don't!" She pointed her finger at him because she knew, just knew, he was about to say something indecent. "We can't do Thursday anyways, Malfoy. We're both busy."

 

He looked at her strangely, and she shot him back the same look in return.

 

Did he really not know what Thursday was?

 

Merlin, she would have fired him three times over by now if she were McKinnon, but she was happy he had kept the prat on retainer now that she knew Malfoy wasn't as good at his job as she was at hers.

 

"Thursday is the ministry organized charity auction." She reminded him. "McKinnon and Henry will both be there, which means we have to too. Don't you think people are going to think it's odd if we're both missing from it?"

 

"Granger, the only reason you want to go is so you can brown nose with all the ministry officials that will be there.”

 

He was right. "You're wrong! I-"

 

"Granger, shh, just, shh, and listen. I will pull some more strings and get us in there after the ministry auction is over. But we will do it on Thursday."

 

“Fine.”

 

“Perfect.” He said, setting her glass on the end table near him. “I like your flat, Granger. It’s...cozy.” He walked past her with a laugh, only turning back to her when his hand was on the doorknob of her front door. “You’ll have to give me a full tour the next time.”

 

Before she could tell him there wouldn’t be a _next time_ he walked through her door and closed the door behind him.

::

 

"Where's your badge?"

 

"I forgot it at home." Somewhere. She couldn't quite remember the last place she had seen it. "I should be on the list though."

 

Hermione tried to peer over the top of the security guard's clipboard, but he tilted it away from her when he realized what she was doing.

 

"The list is not for check-in's, Miss."

 

Hermione smiled up at him. "But you could make an exception this time, right?" She had seen Cho flirt with the guards before, and it had always worked in her favor.

 

"No."

 

She put her hands on her hips and smiled a little bigger. "Are you sure?"

 

"Yes."

 

He looked over the top of her head to a group of approaching wizards and nodded his head at them as they flashed him their clearance badges.

 

Another group came to do the same and Hermione nearly stomped her foot in frustration. She was already late as it was, she couldn't stand out here all night trying to figure out how to barter with a security guard.

 

"Look," Hermione started as she rolled her neck from one side to the other, "I work for Henry Morris, and he's expecting me to be in there. You could ask him yourself; he's sitting right at that front table." She pointed to the open doors and waved her hand in Henry's direction even though she knew he was too far off to see her.

 

The security guard looked down at her for a few seconds before breaking to look at the list in his hand. "Last name."

 

Hermione smiled triumphantly. She was much better at bluffing than flirting as it turned out. "Granger."

 

The security guard hummed to himself as his eyes scanned his clipboard. "Looks like you're not on the list, after all, Ms. Granger."

"I have to be! I'm the one who sent the names in." And there was no way she would have left herself off of it. Though, as she thought more about it, she had done a lot of things in the recent days she would have never thought she would do. "Check again. It's Hermione Granger. G-r-a-n-g-e-r."

 

The guard nodded at a group of witches who then walked past them. "These lists update themselves every night, and I'm not seeing a Granger anywhere on it. You said your first name was Hermione?"

 

She nodded.

 

"I don't see a Hermione Granger,” He murmured, “But I do see a Hermione Malf-"

 

"That's me. My first name, yes." Hermione squeaked, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one she knew was anywhere near them. She brushed her hand across her red face and tried her best to give the guard a smile free of panic. "The last name must be some sort of clerical error."

 

Or a cosmic one, Hermione thought to herself as the guard looked her over.

 

"Granger to Malfoy? That's one hell of a clerical er-"

 

"Hermione?" The name sounded foreign on his tongue, and she turned around expecting to see someone else standing there in his place. "There you are. She's with me." Draco flashed the man his badge and grabbed Hermione’s arm, pulling her past the guard before he had the chance to check it out.

 

"Let me go, Malfoy." She demanded as he pulled her down the hall and to a set out of stairs. "Where are we going? You already passed the doors!"

 

"Upstairs."

 

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what-"

 

"We're going to get a divorce. _Now_."

 

"Don't yell that around here!" She whipped her head around to make sure no one was behind or in front of them. "And we can't run off to get a _you-know-what_ in the middle of an event! I thought we were waiting until-"

 

"I'm not yelling, I'm whispering, and if I were to lower my voice any more, you'd have to start lip reading. Now let's go." He tugged her up a few more steps before she broke free of him, humphing that she could walk by herself. "We have to get this taken care of now, or we have to wait until next month, Granger.  My connection in the ministry is leaving on a bit of a holiday tonight."

 

"Is that what we're calling suspensions now?" Because no one went on a months-long 'holiday' without being forced into it.  

 

"You should know that the fewer details we share, the better off we both are. We wouldn't want you to go off mumbling the details to someone the next time you find yourself in 'distress,' would we?"

 

"You're such a prat." Hermione whispered as she picked up the bottom of her dress and marched after him.

 

When he stopped, she did too, tapping one foot impatiently on the ground before trying to walk around him. She didn't get too far before he tugged her back by her arm and pointed at the door across from them.

 

"That isn't the certification office," Hermione told him.

 

"That's right, Granger, it's not. We can't be seen together in the certification office, but we can be seen going into the public information office, and do you know why?"

 

Hermione scowled at him. How was it possible that he looked even smarmier than usual?

 

"Because no one would question seeing two public servants going there." She ended up saying.

 

"Unless, of course, we spend the rest of the night arguing outside of it." He pushed open the door and waved his hand in front of him, doing the motion over and over until she walked inside. "To the left." He directed, "And we wait here."

 

"For?"

 

"Her." He walked over to the woman who had just exited one of the office doors.

 

Hermione watched as the two of them whispered back and forth, and she tried her best to strain her ears to pick up a word or two of their conversation but got nothing but the curse word that fell from Malfoy's lips a minute or two later.

 

"Let's go, Granger. In here." He pointed to a door to his left but didn't hold it open for her this time.

 

He was already seated by the time she walked into the office, and she noticed immediately how upset he was. He usually only looked like that when McKinnon was underperforming, which was why the expression on his face was of her favorites. But his mood didn’t fit the occasion.

 

"What's wrong with you?"

 

"My ministry connection already left for her...holiday. She did, however, manage to find someone for us before she left."

 

"Okay?" Hermione said slowly, not seeing what the problem was. They should be celebrating, not sulking. "Who is it?" 

 

"Her name is Astoria." Draco looked at her like that should be telling, but she shrugged. The name sounded familiar in a distant sort of way but nothing that caused her any concern. It wasn't like he had said Pansy Parkinson. "We were...involved."

 

Hermione squinted her eyes. "And did that end-"

 

"Badly doesn't begin to explain it."

 

 _Merlin._  

 

She wished he had said Pansy Parkinson.

 

"Then we should go! There's no way she's not going to spread this around and if, and when, she does-"

 

"I’ve been told she’s already signed a nondisclosure agreement, Granger. That's the only reason we're sitting in here and not halfway down the hall." He rubbed at his eyes before looking over to her. "But just because she can't say anything to anyone else, doesn't mean she won't say anything to us. She's a vindictive little-"

 

The door swung open before he could finish.

 

"Draco, it's so nice to see you!" Astoria squeezed Draco's shoulder and gave him a smile Hermione's parents would have been in awe over. "It's been what, two or three months at the most? How's your mother?"

 

"Fine." He responded curtly.

 

"Glad to hear it," Astoria said sincerely, pressing her hand against her heart. "I miss her. Do tell her I say hi and that I definitely owe her a tea next time I see her.

 

Draco grunted a response and rubbed at the side of his neck. Hermione knew that usually meant he was getting annoyed and that the vein on his temple would soon start to show, which meant yelling, and a lot of it.

 

"Now what are you two here for today?"

 

"Astoria, you know exactly-"

 

"I don't. I'm never told." She told him, holding both of her hands in the air ."It's all very hush-hush when things are done off the books like this. Now, are we here for.." She looked between the two of them as if she were waiting on one of them to fill in the blanks. “...Permits? Or?”

 

Hermione cleared her throat. "We're here for a divorce."

 

"A divorce?" Astoria parroted.

 

"A divorce," Draco cemented, "And now that we've all said it, can we get this done quickly, please?"

 

Astoria tapped her long painted nails on the desk. "How long have you two been married?"

 

"Twenty-four hours, give or take."

 

Astoria's eyebrows rose to her hairline. "That was quick. Even for you, Draco."

 

"If this is a problem we can-"

 

"It's not, Draco. I was just making an observation.  So you can sit back down. You know I'm the only one who can do this for you." She waited until he was seated to continue. "With all that said, I'm not going to grant you two a divorce."

 

If she was off put by their reaction she didn't say anything, only brought her hands up again to shush the both of them.

 

"A divorce wouldn't help you. It would still be in your files. You know the one the ministry says we don't keep on anyone, well, it would be in there and with a big red flag attached. You two need an annulment. That way your slate is wiped completely clean and no one would be any the wiser. Would you like to go that route instead?"

 

Hermione looked at the woman across from her. She wasn't the evil vindictive witch Malfoy had led her to believe she would be. She was nice, actually, and really helpful. More helpful than Malfoy had been in this entire process. She couldn't understand why he was acting the way he was towards her.

 

Hermione nodded. "Let's do that instead."

 

"What's the catch, Astoria?"

 

"Catch? There's not a catch. I'm doing you a favor. Mary Anne would not have been going above and beyond for you like I am right now, Draco. You should be thanking me." The tone of her voice changed for a second and she didn't sound nearly as bright and cheery as she had earlier. She took a deep breath. "Do you want this annulment or not?"

 

"Yes." Hermione looked towards Draco with a warning. He couldn't anger the witch who was about to free them of each other. "What do we need?"

 

"Your wands, of course. You'll just tap your wand here, and here, and here, and that will be the end of all of this." She pushed the papers to the other side of her desk and clasped her hands together. "Whenever you two are ready."

 

Hermione quickly pulled wand from the purse she had dropped to the floor and leaned in closely to scan the parchment. There didn't seem to be any hidden language in it, just the standard legal jargon she had expected.

 

"It's fine." Hermione said when she noticed Draco was waiting on her okay. With a deep breath, she reached over and tapped her wand against the paper three times and pulled it back and waited for Malfoy to do the same.

 

Merlin, she was glad this nightmare was over.

 

She would go out to celebrate if that wasn't how they had gotten in this mess in the first place. Maybe she would stop by Diagon Alley and find a nice coffee shop to-

 

"Wait. What's it doing?" Hermione asked as she watched the paper float from the desk and fold itself in half before disappearing with a pop.

 

Astoria scrunched her nose. “Oh, dear, I forgot to mention the most important thing about magical annulments, didn’t I?”

 

"Astoria-”

 

“This is all my fault. You see when you file for a magical annulment it must be signed off by the bride’s family. They have the right to accept or decline the annulment under magical law. But because you married a muggle-born your paperwork got sent to the head of your family instead.”

 

Hermione found her voice first. "Who is the head of your family, Malfoy?"

 

He shut his eyes. "My mother."

 

::

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone waiting on an update Predestined, don't worry, it's coming I prrroooommiiiissse. I had pneumonia, and then I got bronchitis, but now I'm better and getting back into the swing of things :).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos that were left on the last two chapters. You guys are consistently the best ♥.

 

 

::

 

“Could this get any worse?” Hermione asked, swiftly holding up her hand when the smiling witch across from her opened her mouth to say more. “Don’t answer that.” She pleaded before she stood up from her chair and bent to gather the bottom of her dress in her hands “I need…” She stopped herself short...what did she need? A moment? A drink? A time turner?

 

“...I need to go downstairs,” she said once she settled on that excuse.

 

She nodded her head curtly at Draco before leaving the room and then the public information office altogether, walking down the hallway so quickly that she didn’t hear his approaching steps over the constant clicking of her heels on the tiled floor.

 

“I never thought you’d be the type to run away from a little mess,” Draco called out, smirking when she stopped in her tracks and turned to glare at him. He had always known just what buttons to push with her.

 

“Mess?” Hermione repeated, “This isn’t just a little mess, Malfoy. This--” Her hand flew up, down, and then in circles before falling back to her side- “This is a colossal fuck up.”  

 

She was sure she had never cursed so much in her life, but, _shit_ , this was now more than a little mess or a mistake or a one-night stand that should have never happened. This was now a life-altering fuck up, and there was no need to mince words as far as she was concerned.

 

Not when she would spend the rest of her nights looking up at the ceiling wondering, and wondering, how she had let this happen. She knew she was far from perfect, as drunkenly sleeping with him had so clearly shown, but she had never done something like _this_.

 

This was one of the record books.

 

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, Granger.” He looked as if he was about to say something indecent, but ended up quelling the urge by running his tongue over his bottom row of teeth instead. “We still have some time to clean this up. My mother left on her birthday trip this morning, which means that, as of right now, she is none the wiser.  I’ll head over to the mansion, find that letter, and destroy it with my own hands if need be. That’ll buy us a few more days to come up with a plan B.”

 

“This _was_ our plan B, Malfoy.” Hermione reminded him, though she did feel better knowing that Narcissa Malfoy was not on her way down to the Ministry to hex her. Not for now at least.

 

“And there’s always another one to be thought up,” He said in turn, looking over her shoulder when he thought he heard footsteps, his eyes bouncing back to hers when he decided he must have been hearing things. “I’ll find the letter after tonight’s event is over, but you should go home before Chang spots you with that ring on your finger. Even she can’t be that blind.”

 

“So you get to stay, but I have to leave? No. You’re up to something.” Something political, Hermione decided. She wouldn’t banish herself to her flat while he got to network and schmooze the night away. “I’m staying, Malfoy,” Hermione said defiantly, “I can name at least five different glamoring spells off the top of my head.” And two more if he pressed her on it.

 

“And that’s a fantastic party trick, Granger, but you can’t use those on wedding rings. You can blame the randy wizards of days past and their scorned wives for that. It’s part of a fidelity spell.”

 

“Shit,” Hermione cursed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She imagined that Molly was standing disapprovingly by the jar she made her boys add galleons to when they had particularly dirty mouths and was just waiting for her to show up. “I’ll just...cross my arms the entire time or something. You just worry about that letter.”

 

“Okay,” He said, looking over her shoulder again. “I’m going back to talk to Astoria, so I can try and smooth things out.”

 

“Don't you think that's a bad idea? The only person who seems to loathe you more than me is her." 

 

“Just leave her to me, Granger.” He told her before he turned around and walked back to the office. 

 

Hermione took one last look at him before heading down the stairs and to the ballroom where the event was taking place. She took a glass of champagne from a house elf that wandered by and brought it to her lips-- she had earned this drink. 

 

“Hello, Hermione.” A voice from behind her called out.

 

She was about to earn two of them. 

 

“Cormac.” She greeted with a nod of her head and another long sip of champagne, “Didn’t expect you to be here.”

 

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He smiled, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “It seemed, though, that you did. You weren't in here earlier.”

 

Hermione tensed. “I was late.”

 

“Late or lost?” Cormac asked, stepping in front of her. “Because I saw you upstairs not too long ago with Draco Malfoy of all people. Interesting that you’d be talking to your opposition. Rather closely to.”

 

“It--”

 

“Wasn’t what I thought it was? Hermione, I’m a reporter, remember? I know all of the tricks of the trade.”

 

“Cormac, honestly, whatever you’re thinking didn’t happen.” Because she doubted even he could predict what was really going on. “We were arguing as usual. You’ve seen us do it on the campaign trail more than once.”

 

They had a bit of a reputation for it, actually.

 

“It seemed different this time around.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you seeing him?”

 

“ _What_? Of course not.”

 

“So you’re not seeing anyone at all? “Because if you’re not-”

 

“Hold that thought, Cormac,” Hermione interrupted as she caught a glimpse of Cho from across the room. She pushed her champagne glass into his hands before gliding past him and to Cho. 

 

"Cormac caught you in his web, did he?" Cho laughed, looking over at the confused wizard who was still holding Hermione's glass in his hands. "You plan on going back over there anytime soon?" 

 

“Merlin, no,” Hermione said as she looked around the room, “Where’s Henry?”

 

“Mingling with some donors over in the corner.He's been at it for a while. I think it’s going to be a long night. ”

 

“You have no idea." 

 

::

 

“You snuck out last night,” Cho said out of the blue, causing Hermione to nearly jump out of her skin and spill water all over the counter.

 

Hermione waved her wand over the mess before pocketing it again. “I didn’t sneak off, it was nearly over, and Henry had already left by that point. No need in staying if he’s not there.”

 

“Henry hadn’t-” Cho stopped and squinted down at Hermione’s hands before looking back up at her. “ _Wait_ \--are you those gloves?”

 

Hermione looked down at her hands as if she hadn’t realized. “Yeah, I guess they are.” 

 

“It’s the middle of summer, Hermione!” Cho laughed as she followed Hermione to her desk. 

 

“And it’s been a rather brisk one, wouldn’t you say?” Hermione shot back, suddenly glad that it was drizzling outside. “Besides, is it really that odd to be wearing gloves? You’re the one who wears a knit cardigan no matter the season.”

 

 Cho pulled her cardigan tightly around her body. “That’s different,” 

 

“Is it?” Hermione challenged as she pushed her water bottle into her knapsack and slung it over her shoulder.

 

“Yes,” Cho laughed as she grabbed her own bag. “A cardigan is only a light jacket, those are-”

 

“Fingerless gloves,” Hermione completed for her. And she had chosen them because they were a lot easier to open doors with than mittens were. “It’s not weird, Cho,” She said at the strange look on Cho’s face, “Muggles do it all the time.”

 

That was a lie, and a bad one at that, but, luckily for Hermione, Cho couldn’t disagree with her on that one. The witch knew as much about muggle fashion as Hermione did the magical ring stuck on her finger.

 

And it was the blasted ring’s fault she was wearing gloves in the first place. She couldn’t glamor it away, she had tried numerous times despite what Draco had said, so she had hid it the only other way she knew how. It wasn't her fault it was the middle of summer...maybe she had karma to thank for that.

 

“I haven’t seen Dean wear any-”

 

“Do you want to stand around and discuss the differences between Dean and I’s fashion choices or would you like to go scout a location for our rally?”

 

“Hermione,” Cho started with a slow smile, “I was in Ravenclaw, remember? Which means I’m smart enough to know how to multitask.”

 

Cho reached into the compartment of her knapsack and pulled out a map that was marked with circles of many different colors, some with stars next to them and others with x’s.

 

“But I’ll let you off the hook for right now, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover in a very short amount of time.”

 

And thank Merlin for that, Hermione silently praised before she offered her arm to Cho.

 

“Where to first?” Hermione asked, taking out her wand again.

 

“Diagon Alley.”

 

::

 

“We’ve gone to--” Cho’s eyes washed over the map in her hands, counting each business they had already stopped in-”Seven places if you count the one we went in to use the loo. None of these fit what we're looking for.”

 

“I know,” Hermione agreed, spinning around in a circle as if that would reveal the right place. “I wish Henry knew that the word ‘relatable’ is not a good way to describe his ideal location. What does that even mean? People are relatable, not buildings.” She grumbled. 

 

She just wasn't in the mood for this. Her feet were tired, she was thirsty, and it had warmed up so much outside that her hands felt like she had stuffed them in tiny ovens. 

 

“He means he doesn’t want it to be too posh. You know, a place where the everyday wizard wouldn’t feel out of place going to meet him, which is hard because every pub or restaurant in Diagon Alley is either one or the other. We need a place where you don’t need a tie to get in, but you do need a shirt.”

 

Hermione laughed. “If that’s our criteria, we’re going to be here all day.” She looked down the street and pointed at a pub across the way. “What about--”

 

“That one.” Cho interrupted, pointing to one in the opposite direction. She grabbed onto Hermione’s wrist and pulled her along, stopping outside of its doors with a big smile. “It’s called ‘The People’s Pub,' Hermione!” Cho all but squealed, “If that’s not perfect, I don’t know what is.”

 

Hermione stared up at the pub’s sign, her stomach dropping as a memory started to come to her.

 

“I don’t think this is right for what Henry wants to do,” Hermione said nervously, “We shouldn’t have his rally at a pub anyway. What would McKinnon’s people say?”

 

“Bugger them, Hermione! Henry is known as the people’s candidate, and the people like to drink.” She pointed over to the sign in the window. “And look, it says no shoes, no service. This is just what we need. Let’s go in there and give it a good look. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

Hermione had asked herself that very question a night ago when she stood outside of this very pub, trying to get herself to go in and take a drink after her long day on the campaign trail. 

 

Obviously, that hadn’t been a wise choice, considering the predicament she was in now, and going back in now seemed like an even worse idea. Who knew what she and Malfoy had said or done the night before...but that reason, while valid, was not one she could use with Cho.

 

“Let me take a look at that map of yours,” Hermione said, grabbing it from Cho’s hand. They had visited almost half of the places on them already, but surely they could find another one. “How about this one?”

 

“No. We’ve been walking forever and I'm exhausted. Let’s go in and have lunch at the very least. We’ll figure out the rest after I’ve gotten some food in myself.”

 

Cho didn’t give Hermione a moment to argue with her as she grabbed her hand and forcefully pulled her through the door after a wizard walked out of it.

 

“It’s packed in here, but there are some seats open at the bar,” Cho said as she took a look around. She grabbed Hermione’s wrist again and pulled her over, motioning for her to take a seat beside her. “What’s with you? You're just as twitchy as you were the other day.”

 

“Am not.” Hermione denied childishly, her eyes flickering from one barmaid to the other. She didn’t remember any of them, but then again she didn’t remember much from that night at all.

 

“What can I get for you two today?” A barmaid asked as she leaned her body against the counter and smiled at them, her eyes lingering on Hermione for a moment before turning to Cho. “Food? Drinks?”

 

“We shouldn’t really shouldn’t drink. We’re on the clock.” Cho told her sadly.

 

Hermione nodded. “I’ll just have water, please.”

 

"And for you?"

 

Cho squinted up the menu on the wall. “I suppose I’ll have your fire whiskey.”

 

“Cho!”

 

“I’m only trying out the options to see if this is the right fit. I’m very thorough, Hermione, you've always known this,” Cho whispered with a sly smile before slipping off of the barstool. “I’ll be right back. I need the loo.”

 

“Down and to your left.” The barmaid directed before she reached under the bar and pulled two glasses from underneath it. She handed Hermione the one she poured water in and watched as she drank it “So, did you end up making an honest man out of him?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“The bloke you ran off with the other night.” She waited for Hermione to respond, and when she didn’t, she walked to the wall behind her and pulled off a picture that had been tacked to it. "This one." 

 

“That’s...how did you...” Hermione stared up at the barmaid, her eyes zoning in on the name tag that was pinned to her apron. Sylvia, it read, and Hermione repeated the name over and over and over again until she remembered why it was so familiar. "I'm taking this with me," Hermione said before she grabbed the picture off the counter and stuffed it into her knapsack. 

 

“Suit yourself.” Sylvia shrugged, “There’s another floating around somewhere. Don’t know where it wandered off to though.”

 

“What do you mean you don’t know where-”

 

“It was down and to the _right_ ,” Cho said as she sat back down on her barstool. She looked between Hermione and Sylvia before grabbing her fire whiskey and taking a sip, making a face that indicated it was stronger than she had expected. “Just out of curiosity, does your pub do rentals?”

 

“If the price is right,” Sylvia answered.

 

“It will be. Our boss is looking to rent a space in Diagon Alley to host a community forum of sorts. We think this place would be perfect for that. How do we rent it?”

 

“A community forum?” Sylvia snorted, “That would be the first here, but I’ll grab you a card.”

 

Cho clapped her hands together. “Didn’t I tell you this place was perfect? Everyone is going to love it. You could probably even bring Teddy to the event. He’s coming back today, isn’t he?”

 

“Teddy,” Hermione repeated dumbly. Merlin, she had almost forgotten about Teddy.  “I’ve got to go. I have to pick him up from Molly’s.”

 

She hesitated for a moment before sliding off of the barstool. She really didn’t want to leave Cho alone in the pub when there was photographic evidence of her night with Malfoy floating around somewhere, but she had to. 

 

“Go ahead. I’ll stick around here and sample more of their products.” Cho said, tipping her glass at Hermione, “For research purposes of course.” She winked. “You just tell Teddy that I miss seeing his little face around the office and I expect to see him soon, okay?”

 

“I’ll make sure to.”

 

::

 

“I didn’t have a bedtime when I visited with Uncle George,” Teddy complained with as much conviction as he could muster.

 

“I’m sure you didn’t do a lot of things when you went on your little holiday. Teddy,” Hermione agreed as she handed him a cup of mouthwash. “Swirl it around for a few seconds, good, now spit it out.”

 

Teddy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Uncle George doesn’t make me-”

 

Hermione tapped her finger on her chin as she tried to recall all of the things Teddy had told her Uncle George didn’t make him do for the last few days. “Brush your teeth, eat your vegetables, find matching socks or brush your hair, but I know Aunt Angelina made you do them.”

 

“Maybe,” Teddy said, jumping down from the step stool. “But maybe not.”

 

“Mhm,” Hermione hummed, turning off the light to the washroom and pushing Teddy gently down the hall to his bedroom. She almost got him close to the door before he turned and grabbed onto her wrist, his hair growing longer and turning a sad shade of blue.  “Quit it. I know you only use that color when you want something, Teddy. Off to bed!”

 

“A book first? You can choose!”

 

“Fine.” Hermione gave in, leading him by the hand to the living room. 

 

He plopped on the sofa behind her as she pulled a book from the shelf and walked back over to sit beside him. 

 

“It’s about Kingsley Shacklebolt’s run as the Minister of Magic.” She said excitedly as she scooped Teddy onto her lap and leaned back against the arm of the sofa.

 

Teddy yawned, or maybe it was a groan, before he snuggled into Hermione's chest. He only seemed to last a few minutes before his even breathing gave him away and she maneuvered him until he was laying on his belly on the couch covered by the blanket she had taken from a nearby chair. He would just have to sleep there for the night because she wasn’t going to pick him up and risk him fighting sleep again for the next hour.

 

Hermione picked up the book she had just read and walked over to the bookshelf to put it back in its rightful place but turned around at the sound of a pop behind her.

 

“Malfoy!” She nearly yelled in shock, stealing a look down at Teddy to make sure he was still asleep. “What are you doing here? You can’t-”  

 

“What’s that?” Draco asked, motioning down to Teddy.

 

“A child, Malfoy. You’ve seen one before, haven’t you?” At the very least he had been one. A slimy little one, but one nonetheless.

 

“I know what a child is. I didn’t know that you had one.”

 

“I don’t. He’s--” She stopped. That’d be much too complicated to explain right now -” What are you doing here?” She asked instead.

 

“I’m here because we have a problem, Granger, a big one.”

 

“Then spit it out,” Hermione whispered harshly. The last thing she needed was for Teddy to wake up and see Malfoy standing over him.

 

“I can’t destroy the letter.”

 

“What?” Was he truly that incompetent that he couldn’t rip a piece of parchment? “Then bring it here, and I’ll do it.”

 

“It won’t leave the mansion, Granger. No matter what I do, no matter what spell I cast, it keeps coming back.”  

 

“Shit.” Hermione cursed loudly, her hand jumping to her mouth when Teddy stirred on the sofa.

 

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked between the two adults in the room.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing. Me and--”

 

“Draco.” Draco filled in for her.

 

Hermione’s eye twitched. “Dr--Draco-” She repeated unsteadily, his name not sounding right when it came from her, “Are just going to talk for a bit.”

 

“ ‘bout what?” Teddy asked curiously.

 

Draco chimed in first. “How we’re going to get a divorce.”

 

“Malfoy!” Hermione hurried to the sofa to put her hands over Teddy’s ears. “You can’t say those things in front of him. He’s not a baby. He can understand you.” 

 

And repeat it too, which only added another layer of dread to what Hermione was already feeling. Merlin forbid if Teddy regurgitated what he heard when he was at Molly’s later on in the week.

 

“He’s half asleep. Tell him it was all a dream later,” Draco said, “Now back to what we were talking about in the first place, I have a solution to-”

 

“What’s a solution?” Teddy asked, craning his head back to look at Hermione.

 

Hermione bit back the urge to supply him with the correct definition. “No eavesdropping, Teddy!” She told him, “What’s your solution, Malfoy?”

 

“Your sprog.”

 

“What?”

 

Draco pointed at Teddy. “His ears are growing.”

 

“Teddy!” Hermione softly pinched one of his earlobes, and they slowly shrank back to normal size. Teddy gave her a sheepish smile as he shifted his hair to her favorite color.  “You and me in the kitchen _now_.” She said to Draco before marching there. “Get on with it, Malfoy.” She said once he had joined her.

 

“The letter obviously can’t be destroyed, which means my mother is going to find out about this, _but_..”

 

“But what?” She asked when he stalled.

 

“We can work around it. Instead of the letter telling her, we can.”

 

Hermione laughed until she realized how serious he was.

 

“That’s your solution?” She deadpanned. “I’d rather not do that and still be able to walk around with all my limbs intact, thank you very much.”

 

“She’ll take it better with us telling her instead of the Ministry. I can guarantee you on that one.”

 

Hermione scoffed. “Didn’t you say she would hex your head off when she found out about this?”

 

“She'll hex a lot more than that off if she finds out from a letter." 

 

“No, Malfoy. There has to be another way.” She peeked around his shoulder to make sure Teddy was still where they had left him. He was, though his head was peeking up around the top of the sofa. “A plan C.” Anything that didn’t involve getting their family members involved in this. 

 

“She gets back in forty-eight hours. There is no time for a plan C anymore.”

 

Hermione tipped her head back and groaned. None of this would have happened if she had just gone home to her flat that night instead of going out to drink. Now she had to deal with this mess. She supposed he was right though. She would rather face Narcissa head on than have her track her down at work or home.

 

“Fine,” Hermione ground out, “But if she pulls her wand on you first, I’m leaving you there on the floor.”

 

He snorted. “Noted. We’ll meet me at my flat and then go.”

 

“Fantastic.” Hermione breathed out, watching as he disapparated from the kitchen with a pop. 

 

"Hermione?" Teddy called. 

 

"Yes, Teddy?" 

 

He waited until she walked back to the living room. 

 

“What’s a divorce?” He asked innocently. 

 

Bloody hell.

 

Hermione pulled the blanket out from underneath him and tucked him back in. “Let's get you to sleep, Teddy.” 

::

 

“Draco, I wasn’t expecting you would bring a guest with you today.” Narcissa Malfoy said as she walked slowly down the grand staircase. She stopped for a moment, tapping her chin as if in great thought. “I’ll have to have the elves make another plate.”

 

“You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Hermione whispered.

 

“It’s easier to apologize than to ask permission.” He whispered back, wrapping his arms around his mother when she approached him.

 

Narcissa pressed a kiss against her son’s cheek before tapping him lightly on the same one. “I hope you were behaving yourself while I was away.”

 

“Don't I always?”

 

Narcissa hummed her answer before releasing her son and turning to Hermione. She looked the witch up and down before settling in on her face, her eyes narrowed in a way that caused Hermione’s breath to hitch in her chest.

 

Hermione cleared her throat. “I don’t know if you remember me, but-”

 

“Of course, I remember you. There’s no way not to given how much Draco talks about you.” Narcissa said as she started to lead them to the dining area.

 

“Malfoy, she knows,” Hermione whispered as they followed behind her. 

 

“I’ve had the house elves watching her, Granger. She hasn’t seen the letter yet, so there’s absolutely no way she does.”

 

“What are you two whispering about?” Narcissa asked, turning around.

 

“Nothing.” They answered in unison, each stopping just in front of the dining room table.

 

“Draco, you sit there.” Narcissa motioned to the head of the table. “I’ll sit here, and you can sit there, Ms. Granger.” Narcissa laughed for a moment before sweeping her hair away from her face and sitting down in her chair.  “I’m sorry. I should have asked first." 

 

“Asked what?" 

 

Narcissa took the napkin from the table, shook it out, and placed it delicately over her lap.

 

“If you prefer being called Ms. Granger or Mrs. Malfoy." 

 

::

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :0)
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me on tumblr here!](http://www.diemdoll.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment or leave a kudos on the last chapter and especially everyone who's still here with me even though it has been a month or two since the last update! 
> 
> By the way, I usually write Scary!Narcissa but I wanted to try Flairfordramatics!Narcissa with this story. You'll have to let me know if you enjoyed it ;)

 

  
::

"Mother-"

 

"Hush, Draco," Narcissa commanded, waving her hand dismissively in his direction before settling her eyes back on Hermione. "I'm speaking to your wife, not you. Now, go on, tell me which you prefer: Ms. Granger or Mrs. Malfoy?"

 

Hermione took one deep, long, and labored breath because she had a feeling it was going to be the very last one she ever took. Short of a distraction spell, or faking her death at this very table, she knew there was no way she was getting out of this one.

 

She stole an uneasy look at Malfoy before succumbing to her fate.

 

"Neither." Narcissa rose an eyebrow as Hermione hurried to explain. "I think it would be easier for everyone involved if we all just went by first names." Hermione took another deep breath. Her eyes were glued to the older woman's shoulders instead of her eyes because she didn't want to see her reaction when she said what she was going to say next. "..Narcissa."

 

The older witch blinked at her for a few moments before laughing, her fingers pressing themselves against the inner corner of her eye as her shoulders shook. Draco joined in, and Hermione followed suit not too long after, and they all laughed in unison until Narcissa abruptly stopped, looking between the two of them with the most mother-est of glares Hermione had ever seen.

 

"What's so funny?" Narcissa asked. "Do you two like causing me pain?" Her hand pressed into her chest. "Despair?"

 

Draco shook his head quickly. "No, mother. We, or at least, _I_  would never-" He stopped at the sound of protest Hermione made. Leave it to him to try and throw her under the bus to save his own arse. " _Neither_  of us would ever intentionally try and cause you pain."

 

"But you have," Narcissa told him, accepting the glass of water from the house-elf who had wandered in. She sipped at it before setting it down on the table with a clink. "And more, Draco. To you have found out from a letter that you-"

 

"That's why we came here, mother! We were trying to beat the blasted letter so we could tell you ourselves."

 

"That's why you're here?" She stopped briefly as if she was shocked. "So you don't visit your dear mother to say hello like Theo does with his mother or Blaise with his. No-" Narcissa shook her head to accentuate her point- "You visit to let me know you've married without my knowledge and are now seeking to end it."

 

"Mother-" Draco tripped over the syllables of the word as Narcissa leveled another look at him, and Hermione imagined that this was the look he received when he was younger and being naughty.

 

If this were any other situation, Hermione knew she would be enjoying all of this, probably taking pictures of it just to have as a keepsake. Seeing Malfoy practically shaking in his boots as his mother laid in on him would have brought her immense joy, especially if done in front of an audience, but that feeling of elation wasn't there now because she, admittedly, was also shaking in hers.

 

"How long were you two-" Narcissa's nose turned up as she paused, looking for a word that clearly wasn't in her vocabulary-"Gallivanting around together before you married?"

 

Hermione cleared her throat. That was an easy answer. "We weren't-"

 

"A few months," Draco interrupted.

 

Hermione was positive her jaw had just dropped onto the table, but she didn't have it in herself to put it back in place. Not after hearing the lie Malfoy had just told his mother.

 

"A few months?" Narcissa repeated, her eyes narrowing as she processed the timeline. "Is that why you refused to take that nice Liesel girl out for lunch like her mother and I wanted?"

 

Draco stalled, not knowing how his mother wanted him to answer, but feeling as if he was going to get a proper lecture from her either way.

 

"Yes?"

 

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "So you two are serious?"

 

"No," Hermione and Draco answered simultaneously.

 

She clicked her tongue to the roof her mouth. "Not serious but you got married?"

 

"Yes," They answered hesitantly.

 

"And now you want to have your union annulled?"

 

Draco spoke on their behalf first. "Mother, Granger and I made a-"

 

" _Granger_?" Narcissa looked around confused as if she hadn't the faintest clue who he was referring to. "I thought we were all going by first names?"

 

"Fine," he mumbled under his breath. "Her-" he stopped, unable to get the rest out. It reminded Hermione of when Crookshanks was trying to pass a hairball. "Her-"

 

"Spit it out, Draco."

 

"-Mione. Her _..._ mione and I made a mistake, and we would like to put this entire situation behind us so we can both move on as quickly, and quietly, as possible."

 

Narcissa dusted her hands together before setting them neatly on her lap. "Who attended your nuptials?"

 

"Does it matt-?" Draco stopped, judging by the look on his mother's face, it mattered, it very certainly mattered. "It was probably very small."

 

"Probably?"

 

"Definitely." Hermione cut in. If they were going to lie, they needed to be good about it. "An officiant, and us, and that's it." Or so she hoped. The last thing they needed was any more witnesses.

 

Narcissa eyed her suspiciously. "Your parents weren't there?"

 

"Merlin, no," Hermione laughed for a moment before turning it into a cough. She inwardly cursed when it became apparent Narcissa wanted a reason for her parents' absence. "They were...busy."

 

Narcissa straightened in her chair. She didn't like that answer, and everyone in the room could tell.

 

"So they were invited?"

 

Draco groaned on the other end of the table as Hermione struggled to find an answer for his mother.

 

"Y-y-" Narcissa didn't look like she liked that answer. "N-n-n-" She seemed to like that one even less. "..um, they, no. Actually, yes. They were...that. Yes. They were invited." Hermione smiled at the older witch, though it was tight and not at all convincing. "But they..couldn't make it."

 

"Couldn't make it?"

 

Hermione made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. 

 

"I misspoke," she said as her face heated up. "They didn't want to come?"

 

"Why does it seem like you're asking me instead of telling me?"

 

"I-"

 

"Mother, it doesn't matter," Draco cut in, fearing that whatever Hermione was going to say next was just going to make it worse. "We want to end it. You are more than welcome to come to our annulment party."

 

"Don't get cute with me, Draco Lucius Malfoy," His mother said sternly. She motioned for a house-elf, and two came scurrying over, both putting their hands on the back of her chair and pulling it out from the table.

 

She stood up then, dropping her napkin on her empty plate, before picking up the bottom of her dress and sending them both a look. "Stay."

 

"We both need to head back to work, mother, I will be by-"

 

"When has a direct order from me ever given you permission to argue against it, Draco Lucius Malfoy?" She waited for him to answer, but he wisely didn't. " _Stay_ ," she ordered again before leaving the room, the tiny house-elves trailing behind her.

 

"You prat!" Hermione whispered when she was certain his mother was down the hall. "I can't believe you told your mother we were seeing each other! Malfoy, now she's gone off the deep end!"

 

Draco stood up from his seat and walked towards Hermione, sitting down in the chair next to her. "I couldn't very well tell her we got drunk, got married and then had a one night stand. Do you want to tell my mother what a one night stand is because I surely don't, Granger."

 

"I would have rather explained that to her than why she wasn't at our sham of a wedding! For Merlin's sake, I'm not even sure  _I_  was there. For all I know you could have-"

 

"Oh, come off it, Granger, if anyone was-"

 

"You two look close for wanting an annulment." Narcissa mused as she re-entered the room. She had a thick book in her hands, and it made a loud bang as she dropped it on the top of the table. "Do you know what this is, Draco?"

 

He nodded. "The family book." He watched as his mother ran her hands over the cover and then opened it up, flipping idly through the pages as if she wasn't looking for anything in particular. "I don't see what that has to do with-"

 

"This is one of your great grandfathers and his lovely bride." She tapped on the page lovingly before flipping to another. "One of your great uncles and his." She turned the page again. "Your-"

 

"I get it."

 

"You don't," Narcissa flipped to the last page in the book, and it was a picture that Hermione knew well.

 

"Where did you get that?" she asked, reaching out for the book. She needed to burn that picture just like she had the copy she had gotten from the bar. Merlin, she hoped that didn't mean there were other copies flying about because if there were, they were in massive trouble. 

 

"The book summons photographs of married couples in the family to add to its pages." Narcissa leaned in close to examine it. "Seems like you two had fun celebrating that night."

 

"We just need you to sign the ministry paperwork, and we will all forget this and _that_ -" Draco pointed at the picture -"Ever happened."

 

Narcissa shook her head. "It's not that easy, Draco, in fact, it's quite complicated. You should know that with this family everything always is." She closed the book and pushed it to the side. "Can you recall a single family member that has ever separated from a spouse?"

 

"No, but-"

 

"But you're seeking to the be the first, and I'm telling you now that it's not going to be easy. Every wizarding family has their own rules for these things, and maybe a lesser family would just allow a name to be scribbled to the bottom of a paper and let that be that, but Malfoy's are different. We have pride, Draco, and separation takes away from that. Tarnishes it."

 

He paled. "No one would have to know."

 

Hermione wanted to tell her she would take it to her grave, and beyond if possible, but she held her tongue. She wasn't sure she would be able to get the words out considering how nauseous she suddenly felt.

 

Narcissa reached into the pockets of her robes and pulled out a letter with one hand before smacking it against her other.

 

"Regardless, of who would or wouldn't know, I won't sign this, Draco."

 

Draco stood up from his seat, his palm connecting with the table. "When father finds out I married without his consent and to Grang..to Hermione of all witches he's going to-"

 

"Do nothing without consulting me first. And if I say this paper won't get signed, it won't. Not yet. Not until I'm satisfied."

 

"Satisfied? What does that mean?" Hermione asked.

 

"It means that you two made your beds and now you will lay in them." The older witch shrugged. "You will not tarnish this family because you were too stupid to think through your childish infatuation with each other. No, I won't allow it, not after we have come so far." Narcissa looked at them seriously before continuing. "You two are going to try and make this work."

 

"And when it doesn't?"

 

"Then we'll review it, Draco. But I will be the judge of that, not you or her or your father. And that's final." She sighed in relief when the house elves brought in platters of food. "Finally, I thought we'd all starve to death waiting." She ran her fingers over the forks by her plate until she found the right one, sticking the salad fork into her food. "Now where will you two be living?"

 

Draco reluctantly sat back down in his seat. "We live separately, mother. We will remain that way."

 

"That won't do, Draco, that won't do at all. One of you will need to move. I meant what I said: You two will give this a proper go. And that means cohabitation. I'm sure you two don't mind sharing a bed together when-"

 

" _Mother_!"

 

" _Narcissa_!"

 

Narcissa didn't know which one of them to respond to because they had both shouted out at the same time.

 

"Who will be moving?"

 

Both Hermione and Draco pointed at each other.

 

"Did you two not think about this before you married?" she asked with an inelegant snort. "All those months you spent together in secrecy, surely you spent time in one flat more than the other, right?"

 

"Mine," Hermione answered quickly. If they had to do this, they were going to be staying at her flat, not his. "We were at mine."

 

Draco shot her an annoyed look. " _Actually_ -"

 

"Be the gentlemen and move for your lady, Draco. We can talk about the ends and outs of this a little later," she said as she sat down her fork and reached for her glass of water. "Now, I think it's about time for dessert, wouldn't you two agree?"

 

"Yes," They both answered, feeling as if Narcissa wasn't going to let them argue against it.

  
::

 

It was twenty-six minutes later - not that Hermione had been counting - when Narcissa stood up from her seat and excused herself from the room with an apology and a promise to be back in a few minutes. There was a fire-call, she had told them, and Hermione couldn't help but praise her sudden bout of luck. The less time Narcissa was in the room, the better off she and Malfoy were.

 

Hermione waited until she was sure Narcissa was gone to speak. "This is going to blow up in our faces, Malfoy. And it's all your fault!" she whispered, poking him in the shoulder. "If you had only told her the truth, she would have-"

 

"Done the same exact thing, Granger. Yes, maybe the conversation would have been different, but the result would have been the same." He looked around her to make sure his mother wasn't coming. "I saved us from having to listen to her purity speech, that's all."

 

"Purity?  _You_?" Hermione laughed at the outrageousness of it. Obviously, his mother didn't know a thing about his campaign trail habits.

 

He glowered at her. "All we have to do is stick to the plan."

 

"What plan, Malfoy? The one that we had, the one  _you_  came up with, failed, and miserably may I add. What other plan do you have?"

 

"Our plan is to still get divorced. We just have a few more...hoops to jump through."

 

Hermione snorted. "Is that what we're calling your mother now?"

 

"Watch it, Granger," he warned snippily, "You and I just have to put on a show for her, that's all. Make it seem like we're giving this a real go. Soon she'll grow tired of the game she's trying to play with us and end it."

 

"We can't go three minutes without arguing how are we going to make your mother think we're trying to do anything other than kill each other?"

 

"Three minutes?" He snorted. "You're too generous." He picked up his glass and took a drink from it. "We'll just play nice when she's around. Keep up appearances." He rolled his eyes at the look on her face. "What? You know a thing or two about keeping up appearances, don't you? What with having to pretend like your candidate isn't a complete and total fraud and all."

 

Hermione elbowed him in the side. This was no time to be taking jabs.

 

"Henry is a-"

 

"Good man," Draco said, mimicking her voice. He narrowly missed another jab to his side. "Play nice, Granger," he tsked, "My mother is just in the other room."

 

"I can't 'play nice' with you all day, Malfoy," Hermione grumbled as the clock struck to a new hour. "I need to go to work. Cho is waiting for me."

 

"Can't she wait?" Hermione shook her head. She couldn't. They had things to get done. "What could she possibly need you for and before you answer let me amend that: what could she possibly need you for that's more important than this?"

 

"Everything," He didn't look like he believed her and she sighed in frustration, "I'm serious! First, we need to draft a strategy for the-" she stopped, he was looking at her with too much interest, which made her suspicious.

 

When it dawned on her what he was doing, she narrowed her eyes and pointed her finger accusingly at him. "You're trying to get information out of me, you dirty little sneak. This is why this won't work. You're going to try and use this to your advantage."

 

Draco shrugged innocently. "I was only asking my dear wife about her work, is that so wrong?" This time Hermione's jab to his ribs connected and he groaned in pain as he squeezed his side.

 

"Draco get your forehead off the table, that wasn't how you were raised," Narcissa said as she walked back into the room. "Why are your eyes wet?"

 

"Gra-Hermione and I were just having a heart to heart while you were gone," he told her, "Tell mum what we were talking about, love."

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the smug look on Draco's face.

 

"House-elf liberation. It's a cause near and dear to our hearts," Hermione said with a smug look of her own. "Draco was actually going to start a fund for-"

 

"That's enough," he said, standing up. He reached down for her arm and tugged at it until she stood up from her seat as well. "Mother, this was great, but we both have to be going now. Send father my love. I'm sure I'll be hearing from him soon."

 

Draco barely gave his mother time to respond before he was dragging Hermione through the house and to the front doors they had walked through an hour - not that he had been counting - ago.

 

Hermione was finally able to pull her arm from his grasp when they reached the coatrack beside the front door.

 

"I need to stay at your place tonight, Granger," he said quietly, looking around the small space as if his mother was lurking nearby. "In case she decides to pop by my flat to make sure I've moved like I said I would. If we want this to be over soon, we need to play by her rules. "

 

"I can't believe this is really happening," Hermione murmured to herself. She ran her hand over her face before smacking one of her cheeks. She had a feeling she was going to regret what she said next. "For the night, and only the night, you can stay at my flat. We need to figure out something long term because I'm not going to live my life trying to prove to your mother we are a terrible match and she should sign the papers."

 

"For once, I agree with you, Granger." He took his coat from the rack and put it on and then reached for the one she stored next to his and tossed it to her, laughing when it ended up on her head instead of in her hands. "My apologies, I've always had a bad aim."

 

He smirked when she glared at him. "I'll meet you at your flat later. In the meantime try not to stress too much at work." He looked genuine and for a second Hermione believed him. "After all, you know as well as I that there's no point in your working hard if your Henry is just going to lose anyway." Draco pulled open the front door to the manor and motioned for her to walk out. "After you, Granger." He smiled.

::

 

 

"Cho," Hermione started cautiously. "Do I even want to know what you're doing?"

 

The mischievous smile that greeted Hermione when she walked through the office doors spread considerably as Cho shrugged her shoulders, the marker in her mouth making it hard for Hermione to understand what she was trying to say in response.

 

She looked Cho over and noticed that her hands were covered in black ink, presumably from the marker, and she had a smudge going from her cheek down to the underside of her jaw.

 

She looked like a madman or maybe just a Ravenclaw. Dean always liked to say those two things were one and the same.   

 

"Watgies," Cho slurred, taking the marker from her mouth when she realized that it was making her hard to understand. "Strategies," she said again, this time much clearer.

 

"You started without me?" Hermione nearly stomped her foot but didn't when she realized how child like that would have come off. "I thought we were going to do that together." She unbuttoned her jacket and threw it over to her chair, walking over to Cho afterward to see what the witch had come up with while she was gone. 

 

"You're late," Cho sang teasingly. "But I see you still managed to bring the gloves back with you."

 

"Don't start, Cho," Hermione said, linking her hands behind her back as the witch laughed. "What is all of this? It looks like hieroglyphics." She squinted down at the paper trying to find a word she recognized amongst all of the symbols.

 

Cho smiled sheepishly. "You know how my handwriting gets when I'm excited. And I am very,  _very_  excited." She jumped down from the corner of her desk and pointed to the word she had written, and underlined, in the center of the paper.

 

"Employees?"

 

Cho nodded her head excitedly.

 

"Who really runs campaigns? The candidates or the employees behind the day to day activities?" She didn't give Hermione a chance to answer before she continued. " _We_ do. We've been focusing all our time on McKinnon being a God-awful prick, which is true and I wish more people knew that, but if we really want to impact public perception, we need to go after the people behind him. We go after his employees."

 

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together. "Cho, I'm not understa-"

 

"We need to dig up dirt on our counterparts." She swept away pieces of black hair that had escaped from the blue elastic that held together her ponytail. "And when we find something good we'll simply leak it to the prophets and let that in-house scandal distract McKinnon from campaigning. After all, they can't campaign if they're too busy putting out fires left and right. " She smiled proudly. "And guess who we're going to start with."

 

Hermione didn't have to guess because his name was written directly under the word 'employee' and Cho had taken the time to underline his name in three different colors.

 

Hermione looked from the paper up to Cho. "This isn't a good idea."

 

Cho set her hands on her hips. "And why not?"

 

Because, Hermione thought to herself, if anyone were to dig up information on Malfoy it would surely lead back to her. It was only a matter of time before Cho, or whoever she assigned to look into Malfoy, found the waitress from the bar or the security guard from the charity auction or Malfoy's bitter ex-girlfriend in charge of their annulment. There were just too many loose ends involved for Hermione to feel comfortable with Cho's idea. She didn't want her reputation to go up in flames simply because Cho wanted Malfoy's career to.

 

"It's just.." Hermione waved down at the paper. "Don't you think if we sink so low we'll be no better than McKinnon? Henry is committed to running a clean campaign and this will-"

 

"Get our hands dirty?" She set both her hands on Hermione's shoulders and squeezed, rocking the brown haired witch gently back and forth as if she were trying to shake some sense into her.  "Hermione, I love you like a sister now, but this is politics, not family brunch. Everyone's hands are dirty, and if aren't they don't win. Don't you want to win?"

 

They stared at each other for a few moments before Hermione was forced to nod her head. Of course she wanted to win. She hadn't given up months of her life to lose to McKinnon now, but there was no way they could do this without her going down as collateral damage.

 

"This is a brilliant strategy, Hermione," Cho said when she sensed the witch still had reservations. "And, honestly, I've already run it past Henry, and he thinks so too."

 

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "What?" There was no way Henry would have agreed to this. He was a different kind of politician, one who didn't believe in-

 

"Hermione, everyone's hands are dirty." She repeated, emphasizing every word as if she knew what was running through Hermione's head. "No one's perfect, not even Henry. And we're almost in the final stretch now. We can't afford to be the good guys when the bad guys are getting all the good press."

 

"When did you two decide this?"

 

"This morning."

 

Hermione fought the urge to tip her head back and groan.

 

If she hadn't gone with Malfoy to his mother's house, she would have been able to talk Henry out of this new attack strategy. It seemed like the more she tried to dig herself out of the hole she and Malfoy had dug the more dirt got piled up on top of it.

 

"Okay." Hermione blew out a steady stream of air. "You're right. This is a great idea." Cho beamed at her and Hermione tried to smile back. "I'll look into what Malfoy is up to, and you focus on someone else in McKinnon's campaign."

 

Cho looked skeptical, and Hermione couldn't blame her. "Are you sure you're going to be able to handle that?"

 

"Yes," Hermione promised. "He won't notice me sticking my nose where it doesn't belong because I've always done that. You, on the other hand-"

 

"Are person non grata," Cho grumbled. The only person who argued with Malfoy more than Hermione was Cho. "But, Hermione, you know you have certain...Hufflepuff qualities and we really need this strategy to work. I don't know if you're going to be able to look past-"

 

"I can do this, Cho. I will."

 

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "But I've also told Dean he could. Two heads, or two sneaks, are better than one." She used the marker in her hand to scribble Hermione and Dean's names underneath Malfoy's.

 

Cho capped her black marker and threw it on top of her messy desk. "Now that that's all decided let's talk about next week's community forum."

 

Hermione sighed in relief. That she could handle.

::

 

Draco set his hand against the cushion of Hermione's sofa and pressed down on it as if he was testing its softness.

 

"I'm not sleeping on that thing, Granger," he scoffed. "There's not a spell in the world that'll make it anywhere near soft."

 

Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped a blanket down on the sofa. "You're being dramatic, Malfoy. It's perfectly fine." And if he didn't like the blanket she brought him he could go without.

 

"That's not what you said yesterday," Teddy hummed from behind her. He set the pillow he had brought from his room next to the blanket and smiled up at her. "You said it was as hard as na-"

 

"Why don't you go play with your toys, Teddy?" Hermione said quickly, motioning to the hallway that led to his bedroom.

 

Hermione knew that it would be the best for them all if Malfoy and Teddy spent the least amount of time together as possible. The last thing she needed was for Teddy to slip up and say his name to one of the Weasley's or, even worse, form some sort of alliance with Malfoy.

 

She shuddered at the thought.

 

Teddy looked up at her sadly, his beautiful brown hair turning into a sad shade of blue. "But I want to stay."

 

"You need to go get ready for bed," she told him, hoping that her voice sounded as stern out loud as it did in her head. She had never been the authority figure in his life. She left that up to Molly who had practice wrangling boys his age. "Off you go."

 

Teddy pouted for a few seconds before walking down the hall, no doubt grumbling to himself as he did so. When the bathroom door clicked closed, Hermione turned towards Malfoy.

 

"We-" Hermione motioned between the two of them-"Need to set some rules, Malfoy, and we need to set them now."

 

He looked at her amused. "Are you asking me to set a safe word?" He asked, grinning as wide as a Cheshire cat. "Usually I do like to wait until at least the second date, but if you're really gung-ho about this we could skip past all of the formalities and-"

 

"Why can't you be serious?"

 

"Because what good would it do if both of us were as tightly wound as you are right now?" He sat down on her sofa and grimaced to put on a show. "Go on, Granger. What is your rule?"

 

Where to begin.

 

"Firstly-"

 

"There's more than one?" he groaned, rolling his head from one side to the other. "Really, Granger? This is only going to be one night, what kind of trouble do you think I-"

 

" _Firstly_ ," she said again loudly. "You are not to go looking around here." She had too many campaign notes floating around, and she wasn't sure she could find them all to hide if she even wanted to. "This is not your flat, and you are not a guest."

 

He laughed. "Then what am I?"

 

"A fly," she answered. "And I will swat you if I catch you buzzing around any of my things." She looked at him seriously before continuing. "You may not make any changes to anything in my flat-" He made a sound of protest, but she talked over him- "Other than the sofa, which you have so dramatically deemed as uncomfortable. But everything else stays the same, do you understand?"

 

He stretched his arms out on the sofa and nodded his head. "Yes, Ms. Granger," he said with a smirk. He straightened up on the sofa and blinked at her innocently. "What else will you have me do for you mistr-"

 

"You need to work on your mother. Tell her every day and night how miserable I make you and-"

 

"-I can promise you I've been doing that for years, Granger."

 

She stopped briefly to glare at him and then continued. "Then what does she want else from us?"

 

"I told you earlier that we just need to pretend we're happy because, to her, that will show that we're really giving this the 'proper go' she wants."

 

"I'm not that good of an actress."

 

"Really? You seem to do a fine job every time you're introducing Henry Morris as the next savior of the Wizarding world." He smiled at the death glare she sent him. "Ah, yes, that is the exact look you'll need to start using if we plan on getting out of this anytime soon. We're going to vomit positivity around my mother for a few days, and then we'll start arguing more and more, preferably in front of people so it embarrasses her. Afer that she'll sign the paperwork, and we'll be out of this without anyone knowing."

 

"Hopefully," Hermione whispered, thinking about Cho's newest crusade.

 

He looked at her with interest. "What was that?"

 

"Nothing, I-"

 

"No, not whatever you're mumbling to yourself about what was that sound." He pointed to her front door. "Aren't you going to go answer it?"

 

"Are you mental?" She whispered as the knocking got louder. "Why would I- _stop_ \- Where are you going? Don't answer it!"

 

"No one's going to open the door, Granger, just taking a little peek." He whispered back to her as he crept towards the door, leaning in closely when he arrived so that he could look through the peephole. "It's Chang," He told her, pulling a face. "I would have rather a Weasley. Two even."

 

" _Shit_." Hermione cursed. He had to leave because there was no way he could be anywhere in her flat if Cho were, but the options were limited because there was no disapparting from her flat. The only option for entry and exit was her front door.

 

"You've got to hide."

 

"Where? Would you like me to hide under the sofa?" He asked in jest though Hermione, in her panic, started to think of that as a viable option. "Granger, I'm not-"

 

Hermione looked around her living room. "The closet!" She said, pushing him towards it. "Get in the closet, Malfoy."

 

He looked at her like she had lost it. "Are you mad? I'm not hiding in your closet. God knows what kind of-"

 

"Hermione, open up, it's important!" Cho called from outside of her door.

 

"It's just a bunch of clothes, Malfoy-" And shoes, old blankets, awards-" _Get in_ -"

 

"Granger, I am _not_  getting in-"

 

"Hermione, I saw your shadow I know you're in there," Cho said impatiently. "What's going on? Do you have another suitor with you?" Hermione couldn't see her face, but she knew the expression that was on it.

 

"Another suitor?" Malfoy repeated, arching an eyebrow. "Color me surprised, Granger, I thought I was your one and on-"

 

"In,  _now_." Hermione opened the door to the closet and pushed him in, closing it despite his protest of it being too dark and dusty for him. "If you make a sound we won't have to worry about getting a divorce because I'll be a widow."

 

Hermione took a deep breath and smoothed down her hair.

 

She walked to the front door and opened it, giving Cho her most convincing of smiles.

 

"What's going on in here?" Cho asked, stepping around Hermione. She looked around the small space suspiciously before looking back towards her. "You've got that smile on, and I know that smile." Cho clicked her tongue as she walked from the living room to the kitchen, hands on her hips as if she was a mother who just knew her daughter had snuck in a boy. "Tell me everything."

 

"Nothing's going on, Cho," Hermione laughed as if the mere thought were ridiculous."I was just getting ready for-"

 

The sound of a sneeze cut off her words, and Hermione groaned in tune with it.

 

_Shit_.

 

Cho looked at the closet. "What was that?" 

 

::

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnn......thanks for reading :).  
>  
> 
> Oh!! You can also [find me on tumblr here!](http://www.diemdoll.tumblr.com)


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